ASC - Imagine The Future

Samurai Red Seal: 2015

I've covered a fair bit of ASC on this blog, but aside from my first dip into Mr. Clements' discography (Nothing Is Certain) and the multi-part Sci-Files series, it's been almost entirely his ambient output. Even then, I've barely scratched the surface of those records, but I know there's more to his muse than lengthy dronescapes. No, it's about time I scoped out something of his that has some rhythmic momentum going on, a trip into techno or dive into d'n'b again. Imagine The Future is thus that album that'll get me there, for no other reason than because it was the one of the ones that was there. On ASC's Bandcamp, that is. Can't be too fussy, I s'pose.

This actually is a bit of an appropriate album to check out, in that it was released the same year as Fervent Dream, when I started listening to more ASC proper-like. Oh, what strange and bizarre butterfly-effect may have happened in that alternate timeline, had I chosen Imagine The Future over Fervent Dream. Well, no, I can't conjure any such quantum variation upon my current state of being. I got Fervent Dream because it was on Silent Season, it being an ASC album just an added bonus. There was no 'zine hype surrounding Samurai Red Seal at the time (at least, none that I was aware of, and certainly no spiffy Resident Advisor write-up). Not that it would matter, as this was the last album released on the Samurai Music off-shoot (ASC's Space Echo EP being the very last item – James sure knows how to pick 'em).

Anyhow, Imagine The Future kicks off with a three-part, near twelve-minute piece titled Sunspots. When I first threw the album on, I did not realize it was a three-part, near twelve-minute piece, and honestly thought I was listening to a continuous mix. Look, when each 'Event' sounds radically different from the other, going from a chill bleepy ambience, to a harsher beatless techno dub, to out-and-out experimentation, you'd be forgiven for thinking the same.

That bit of artistic indulgence out of the way, Mr. Clements turns his attention to more conventional songcraft, kinda'. By the mid-'10s, he was well onto pushing the boundaries of how much sonic space he could breathe into his minimalist microfunk beats, and Imagine The Future pushes far indeed. Even when the tempo is technically high and brisk, the low thrum of bass and smooth, breezy rhythms never dominates a given track, letting the sparse melodic fills and cosmic reverb do the heavy lifting. It's like where the bleeding edge of techno and d'n'b meet out there, in space, but as viewed (heard?) from our distant, Earthly vantage point.

It all sounds neat and interesting, but there's a bit of a sterile, clinical approach to it too. I think I've just been spoiled by ASC's warmer sonic adventures into ambience, Imagine The Future coming off as a hard yank back into techno dystopia by comparison. Perfect for forlorn Photek fans!

Banco de Gaia - Igizeh (20th Anniversary Edition)

Disco Gecko: 2020

I was hyped when Toby Marks started putting out 20th anniversary editions of his back-catalogue, but only for the first couple albums. As I only discovered Banco's music after the Last Train To Lhasa era, his early years had remained something of a mystery, a potential trove of unreleased alternates, versions, and remixes of tunes that don't get as much shine in modern years. By Big Men Cry though, I was consistently on the ball about Banco, so didn't miss out on much that I wasn't interested in to begin with. And to be blunt, the packages that were released for Big Men Cry and Magical Sounds... didn't look to enhance those albums beyond what I already got out of them. Thus I let them pass on by.

Igizeh's re-issue though, I was interested in this one. This album tends to get overlooked, the big-beat 'hit' How Much Reality Can You Take? overshadowing some of the best songs to ever emerge from the World Bank. Seti I remains a top class tribal opener, Obsidian a fun romp into trance's domain, while Ms. Folker's heart-wrenching go with Glove Puppet cuts like a knife through your soul. Meanwhile, though B2 and Gizeh may not be quite on part with similar tunes in Banco's catalogue, they're still solid entries into his ambient dub and epic jam lexicon. Even the 'lesser' tunes like Creme Egg, Fake It Till You Make It and Sixty Sixteen nicely round out the album experience. Yes, Igizeh has everything going for it that should have made it a Banco de Gaia classic, if not for one thing: the mixdown.

Granted, there's none of the dirty digitalness that marred You Are Here. However, it was rather muffled too, as though the microphones used to record in all these live settings simply couldn't pick up the performed music at its best. Surely a spiffy, modern, remastering of Igizeh would erase those limitations, give these songs the resonance they deserve? Well, there's more clarity in 20th Anniversary - I can pick out even more drumming than before! I still need to crank the volume a little extra though. Guess there's no getting around the quality of the source material.

But enough of that. The selling point of these anniversary editions has been the bonus content, and I was quite intrigued by what Igizeh's offered. Banco's drifting into proper band territory has made much of that music difficult to remix, likely the reason why Magical Sounds... featured mostly live versions instead. Not here though, every tune getting the remix treatment in some way. A couple I already have (ADF's go with Obsidian, Dreadzone's go on Glove Puppet, Jack Dangers' go on Reality), others are just dancier versions of the originals (Seti I, Creme Egg, Gizeh, B2). More interestingly, 100th Monkey's turns the Pink Floydy Fake It into prog-psy, while Andrew Heath radically alters Sixty Sixteen into his brand of minimalist ambient. It's like the rousing, climatic second half of the original never existed!

Speedy J - Ieee Mitten Menu

NovaMute: 1999/2021

Well, isn't this a funny looking little record from Speedy J. While he's never been completely shy from cheeky presentation (hello, scrambled cable porn G Spot), he's certainly not known for going so cartoony. Even the title of this single is silly, supposedly a Dutch play on words akin to English's Eeny Meeny Miny Moe (how the rest of that rhyme goes is entirely dependant upon where and when you grew up). I'm not sure what prompted the release of such a record on Jochem's part. It wasn't tied to any particular album, nor did he debut on NovaMute with it. Maybe Mr. Paap simply made this because *gasp* he just felt like it, as a lark? What sort of artistic indulgence is this!

The Nutt Mix (hehe, heh... 'nutt') is about what you'd expect from Speedy J in this time frame, an uncompromising techno-breaks outing with distortion aplenty. Even the robot voices are distorted! I'm not sure what that voice is saying, though online sources tell me it's more nursery rhyme silliness. Additional elements come and go, like spacey synth pads, swooshing effects, warbly sine waves, while the rhythms shift into higher gear near the peak of the track. Nothing fancy, just a functional slice of aggro techno for the (then) modern era. You'll be hearing this phrase from me a lot about Speedy J records in the future.

The Mint Mix opens with a vocal which I assume is the title (or portions of the rhyme) getting all chopped up. That voice though, I can't help but feel like I've heard it before. It almost sounds like that “something for your mind” lady, and now my brain has made a connection to Speedy J's breakout single of the same name that almost certainly doesn't exist in reality. No, really, how funny would it be if Mr. Paap used Ieee Mitten Menu as an exercise in exorcising demons from his past. Yeah, it was a big break for him, but boy was Jochem ever quick in distancing himself away from that brand of techno too.

Anyhow, Mint Mix seems mostly conventional and pared down from the Nutt Mix, a rather funky breakbeat carrying things along as the familiar Ieee Mitten Menu elements come and go. Towards the end though, things go ultra-distorted in a noisy freak-out of aggro beats. Pretty cool, and segues nicely for a coda of lingering, creepy after effects.

B-side Fart Essen (hehe, heh... 'essen') is a straight-up, no nonsense piece of faceless techno business, relentless bosh for the 4am warehouse crowd. Kinda' cool as a precursor of where Speedy J would eventually end up, but not much else to say about it. I do wonder what folks thought of it at the time though. Like, were any of his followers still hoping for a return to his G Spot material? Oh sweet summer children, if you felt Ieee Mitten Menu was off the plot, you hadn't heard anything yet.

Olivier Orand - Human

Ultimae Records/Sidereal: 2008/2019

As I'm perusing the Sidereal shop looking to update my Solar Fields re-issues, I notice this remarkably striking bit of cover art. Holy hell, but what is this? Some sort of synthwave noir outing? Seems like a strange addition to a label primarily focused on Magnus' back-catalogue. I certainly have never heard of this Olivier Orand before, so maybe they've begun branching out a little. Sure, I'll give this a whirl.

When I fire up Discogs to Add [this CD] To [my] Collection, I'm struck by a sudden sense of recollection. One of these tracks is called Radio Bombay? I swear I've heard that before! Maybe a previous compilation? Let me Search Mr. Orand's Discography within Discogs and ...oh! This album titled Human is in fact a re-issue of Human, previously released on Ultimae Records by Hol Baumann. Wait, Hol is Olivier? Baumann is Orand? Finkle is Einhorn? What's going on?

So turns out, 'Hol Baumann' was an alias (nickname?) for Olivier, which he promptly dumped sometime in the mid-'10s. I can't find any information for the change. Some sort of finagling over legal matters? A feeling that his time with Ultimae was well in his past, so may as well carry on with his real name? Whatever the case, Mr. Baumann are no more, and Mr. Orand now... is.

This is also fortuitous in my case, as Human is one of the few Ultimae records I never picked up. It wasn't for a lack of opportunity, mind you, seeing it available in the label's shop long after much of their back-catalogue went out of print. For whatever reason though, I was never compelled to nab it while I had the chance, and I assume that was the case with a lot of Ultimae followers. Which had to suck just a little for one of the label's longest contributors to their series of compilations.

Anyhow, this Human is slightly different from the older Human, in that four tracks have been added (Varanasi, Handwritten Notes, Scala, Final), and one removed (Bénarès (Vârânaçî Edit)). Also, the final sequence has been rejiggered, five minutes of silence following A Forgotten Ritual jettisoned in favour of two added tracks.

Now that I have taken in Human proper-like, I cannot deny feeling a little disappointed in not giving it a chance sooner. While maybe not as God-tier as some of Ultimae's all-stars, Olivier's offering is a darn fine outing of clicky-glitchy world beat psy-dub. Even if the beatcraft and sample splicing does create something of a plastic sheen to the production, it's never too over-indulgent in effects wankery to be distracting. And when Mr. Orand goes for an opulent climax, it's easily on par with the best of what Ultimae offered at the time. The only real drawback to Human is the lack of anything immediately earwormy, perhaps doing more than what the brain can firmly latch onto long-term. Still, a nifty ride of various sounds and sonic soup while it plays.

Morphology - Horta Proxima

FireScope: 2020

Not to say Morphology isn't a suitable fit for FireScope, but man, did their debut on the label ever come off as an odd man out. I'm not even talking musically, their melodic songcraft nicely rubbing shoulders on the print that B12 built. Still, the duo's electro purism couldn't help but clash a little with the more IDM-leaning techno of the surrounding roster. Beyond that though, I'm talking about the utterly drab, beige cover-art of Traveller. FireScope has, if nothing else, offered quite the selection of fantastical sci-fi aesthetics, eye grabbing artwork that one can easily get lost in as the retro-future rhythms emanate from nearby speakers. All except for Morphology's album, nothing more than a barren, empty crawlspace in an unremarkable space-station. It's certainly a choice, and may even suite the electro vibe Matti and Michael cultivate, but does little in standing out on a label like FireScope.

So I'm glad that, if nothing else, we've got something a little more colourful for Morphology's follow-up on FireScope, Horta Proxima. At first glance, it's still a stark, almost barren bit of scenery, but at least we have some nice contrast in the darks and oranges. Looking deeper though, and you discover there's all sorts of odd, mysterious artifacts in this landscape. Is that some sort of ruin? A living creature? A bio-mechanical monstrosity? So many possibilities, though I'm certain ninety percent of you have already thought of that one episode of classic Star Trek.

In any event, Horta Proxima is indeed the latest album from Morphology, which means is yet another of those quirky items on FireScope where an LP is split between two CDs of EP length. Yeah, yeah, it's meant to replicate the vinyl experience of having an album on two separate discs, which was a bit novel when Morphology broke that barrier with Traveller. Now that Steven Rutter, John Shima, and Derek Carr have also gotten in on that however, it doesn't feel quite so novel. Whatever, you do you, FireScope.

(*DE-DAE-DE DUN-DUUNN* BREAKING NEWS!!
As I was writing this, FireScope announced a Mophology box-set ...kinda'. Two separate albums titled Twelve, out on four CDs or records, with cover-art that's... very techno traditionalist. So much for falling lock-step with rest of the label)

Whichever disc of Horta Proxima you throw on first, they play out in similar fashion. The first couple tracks feature the most 'FireScope'-y of the tracks, closer to the domain of melodic IDM and sci-fi techno, followed by an assault of bumpin' electro, closing off with something on the downbeat. Or the whole thing plays out in two halves, if you go the digital route. When Morphology let the melodies carry, they fit right at home with FireScope, but whenever the robots start gettin' down, they remain odd cybermen out. Throughout it all though, their mint, angular beatcraft and thick bass tones resolutely keep the propah' electro fires burning bright. Preferably glimmering across chrome-painted star cruisers.

Various - Heights

Archives: 2020

Finally, I get to talk about Archives! Not that this Spanish ambient label is some utterly unknown entity. Nay, they've been operation for over half a decade now, steadily releasing albums at a solid clip of several items per year, with such names like Purl, Halftribe, and Gallery Six making appearances. Throw in gorgeous naturalistic cover art with each release, and you'd think Archives would be on the tips of more tongues within the ambient-o-sphere.

Honestly though, if it wasn't for the Purl connection, I probably would have completely passed Archives by. As I've said in the past, when there's so much ambient music being released by the hour, one tends to focus their interests on specific artists and labels after a while, trusted go-tos and the like. Occasionally a Discoggian dive or a spiffy write-up in a 'zine might lure you in for a closer look, but in my experience, such times are rare. We are very much creatures of habit. Maybe, if I'd happened upon the cover art at least, I'd have given Archives a shot (they are very lovely landscapes), but I haven't seen much of their output in the usual blogs and store-fronts, to say nothing of being almost a non-factor in getting attention of the Almighty Algorithm. Nope, it was strictly the fact Purl released an album on there in 2020 that I ever learned of the label at all.

With that in mind, you may expect Archives to mostly be on that slightly dubby, layered drone type of ambient business, rather like Silent Season on their beatless days. Well, I don't know about that with any authoritative measure, as I've only gotten four CDs from the label thus far. I suppose it's handy that we're starting this mini-plunge with a compilation then, a tasty appetizer of various artists on offer before taking in a proper meal.

And hoo boy, am I ever diving into the ambientia obscura here. Andrew Tasselmyer. Shuta Yasukochi. Pepo Galán. Sphereuleus. Snufmumriko. Not to say these are complete unknowns abroad – some have even made appearances on Kompakt. Out of the eleven tracks featured on Heights though, I only recognize two off-hand: Hilyard, due to her collaboration with ProtoU on Cryo Chamber; and Warmth, because he runs Archives, and thus has a ton of material on the label.

Tasselmyer's Columns opens things up, and it's a pure drone-tone piece, eventually fading off into white noise and wind. Ellis' Canyons edges closer to modern classical, gentle piano piercing dense layers of calming, dubby drone. Heights mostly flits between these styles of ambient throughout, pieces ambling along and generally maintaining a tranquil mood. While every artist does bring something unique, you probably won't notice much variation unless you're paying close attention.

And that's fine, Archives' brand of ambient clearly intent on existing as nothing more than a cleanser for your headspace. As such, you'd justly believe it'd remain overlooked and obscure, but it's just so darn good at it!

Yet Another EMC Update: The Updatening (Or How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Update Harder)

So I'm postponing the Ace Tracks Playlist another month. No major, life-shattering reason for this, some unforeseen, cataclysmic event in The Life Of Me shaking down. Between the last two months, I do have enough material for a respectable playlist, but my future schedule does make this the practical option.

For you see, I plan on taking July off. I'll be away from home for a significant chunk of the month, and likely won't have much time to knock out any reviews. Yes, not even on the road, as my poor old laptop is truly showing its age now. Besides, it's been four years since I last took a full month off, and could probably use a little mental recharge. Yeah, there were some fallow periods (oh God, were there ever some fallow periods in 2020!), but I still managed to squirt out a few reviews per month even during those challenging lean times. I can probably use some extended time not worrying about this blog. And since it's doubtful I'll do enough in June to justify its own playlist, it makes better sense combining these three months into one before going on my month-long break.

Wow, this has to be the most update-iest update I've ever updated.

Rudy Adrian - The Healing Lake

White Cloud: 2000

It's wonderful that so many CDs are available on the Discogs marketplace, but shipping costs have grown exceedingly brutal in recent years. It's gotten to the point where even if you want only one item from a seller, you kinda' feel obligated getting more just to make the postal fees worth the purchase. Which is fine and dandy if said seller has a robust selection to choose from, but that's not always the case. Yes, in one of the quirkier aspects of music collecting, not everyone's tastes line up one-to-one. In fact, there may be only a singular artist where common ground is met, interests radically diverging from that point on.

So it seemed with this particular seller. I wanted a Neotantra CD off him, but browsing the rest of his catalogue, didn't see much else that triggered my curiosity. Some other ambient releases from the likes of Oöphoi, Popol Vuh, and Ishq. Prog rock options like King Crimson, Mastadon, and, uh, Van Der Graaf Generator. Some other stuff with titles like At The Speed Of Light Or Day, Double Nickels On The Dime, and Evolution Of JazzRaptor. Again, potentially all stuff I may vibe on, but I wasn't feeling particularly adventurous on this purchase. I still had to select something so those dastardly shipping fees were less painful though, so I rounded out the order with my usual fall-back when I'm indecisive: go with the cover art with the most blue on it. And this, my friends, was the bluest bit of cover-art by far.

Sorry for blasting through half a review going on about this, but unfortunately, I don't have much to say about Rudy Adrian. The New Zealander seems like a nice enough chap, and has maintained a tidy career these past two decades. His brand of ambient music tends to drift closer to the realms of New Age meditation music though, which unfortunately gets lost among the many, many artists who compose the stuff, often sitting lonesomely in shops selling crystals and herbal remedies to modern mystics. To say nothing of not being considered 'serious music approved by music critics', beyond the occasional thrown bone of a “New Age music is not all bad, actually” article. Existing for half a century, and still can't get any respect.

And while I'd love for The Healing Lake to have somehow been an undiscovered gem transcending its genre, no, it's about what you'd expect of this stuff. Released earlier in Rudy's career, it has all the hallmarks of ambient music perfectly suited for deep meditation or massage therapy. There is some progression as pieces play out, but can just as easily fade into the background of whatever activity you're doing as it plays. Steady synth tones and drones mostly dominate, with sporadic sprinklings of woodwinds and spritely electronics, invoking moods mysterious and calming. It's the perfect soundtrack for losing oneself in the stillness of remote naturalistic settings, preferably some lost mountain lake as the sun rises over the surrounding canopy.

Solar Fields - Green

Droneform Records/Sidereal: 2014/2018

Wait a tik'...! Solar Fields has a box-set too? Solar Fields has a box-set too! And not just any ol' 'album gathering' box-set, but one that consolidates many a wayward track and tune floating about the compilation and internet ether. Red / Green / Blue actually started out as individual releases on Magnus' own Droneform Records, strictly digital options for those who hadn't been too diligent in obtaining every single item released under the Solar Fields banner. Or heck, even for those who were, but now offering a tidy collection in three releases (because there was just that many out there!). A few years later, Solar Fields starts re-issuing hard-copy releases of his back-catalogue, eventually leading to these former digital-only compilations getting a box-set treatment as well. [enter outdated “and still no Earthshine re-issue” quip here]

As for what differentiates Red from Green from Blue, I really couldn't say. I breezed through them all, and didn't notice much thematic difference between them. Nor are they chronologically sorted, each track seemingly plucked from whatever compilation from whatever year it may have been released. About the only common thing among them is how Magnus sequenced each, with a gradual escalation in tempo, such that they play out in similar fashion. The actual track selection seems to be nothing more involved than being in service of this, but I guess that's to be expected. It's not like Solar Fields has that radical a disparity in his musical aesthetic, especially among tracks mostly intended for compilation contributions.

By alphabetical decree, I'm covering Green first, and of the ten tracks included, I already have two: Spiritual Ocean and Levitate, appearing on Fahrenheit Projects. A few remixed album tracks also appear, including Insum from Leaving Home, Magic Eye from Blue Moon Station and... Sol from Movements? Ah, sweet, Sol is, like, one of my favouritest Solar Fields tracks ever! I bet this remix will be totally dope as well. *listens* Hmm, okay, maybe not after all. Seems less grand and... singular? Something meant to stand on its own rather than add to an album experience, I guess.

So the rest. Opener Level Out is rather chipper and plucky with plenty of spacious woodwinds and chant going with its bouncy electronics. Rain Geometry was a H.U.V.A. Network track, though as this is Magnus' own rub, does the usual Solar Fields slow build with plenty of atmospherics churning up the ethnic sounds on display. Respiratory Rate is an almost experiential piece by Solar Fields standards, the sounds of steady breathing forming a rudder while a mid-tempo bounce breaks out. Finally, The Sight Is White and Third Time (T Version) are noteable for the types of compilations they appeared on: the former on a label called Candyflip Records (cute), the latter on a rather dodgy 2002 psy-trance CD called First Impression. If AP Records was the sort of label Magnus had to deal with in the beginning, I'm sure he couldn't wait to become part of the Ultimae family.

Silent Universe - Gravity

Ignis Fatum: 2015

Another promising space-themed side-project that seems to have stalled. Why do I keep stumbling into these? Okay, my sample-size is small, but I'm sure if I kept digging deeper and deeper into all these niche scenes featuring artists with multiple aliases, I'd come across more. I just don't want to keep getting my hopes up, is all. The gap between Distant System releases was excruciating enough, and I needn't put myself through more of that on the regular. Oh, but they tempts us, they do...

I should be thankful The Infinity Coordinates isn't the lone Silent Universe album out there. Yeah, it's been half a decade since Pavel Malyshkin debuted the project on Cryo Chamber, but he's had plenty 'nuff on his plate with continual explorations of all things cold and remote as Ugasanie. Like, imagine if you were a hardcore fan of his other side-project, Polterngeist. That one didn't even get the Cryo bump, mostly relegated to self-releases, and remaining in mothballs for as long as Silent Universe has. Polterngeist did have one item out on Ignis Fatum, the minuscule Belarus net-label that housed the first two Silent Universe albums, so there's that at least.

Was this project started to support Ignis Fatum? Like, I can see Pavel wanting to help the label, though many dark ambient producers from eastern Europe did contribute to their debut compilation Inception (Dronny Darko, Aseptic Void, Symbiosis, to name just a few I'm familiar with via Cryo Chamber). There was even a couple Ugasanie tracks on Ignis Fatum collections, but for whatever reason, Pavel felt this was an opportunity to explore other sounds away from his most successful alias. Fair enough. When your most prominent work gets tied to a certain style, it's harder to creatively branch out. Here's a fresh name for a fresh label, and see what may come of those stellar winds.

Gravity was the second of the two Silent Universe releases on Ignis Fatum (so sayeth Discoggian release dates), and kinda' feels like the more standard of them. Yep, it's another dark space ambient LP themed around singularities, black holes, and all the cataclysmic events that occur at the bleeding edge of observable physics. Plus a pair of tracks titled Dark Energy and Dark Matter, in case you're feeling saucy about exotic astrophysics. Musically, such as it is, we're in Lustmordian drone territory, all ominous atonal moods and sounds. Subtle hints of melodic harmony occasionally emerges in some of the seven tracks (Dark Energy, Event Horizon, Among The Dead Stars), while others seek to simply crush your sense of self (Black Hole, Hubble Radius).

As mentioned, it's all familiar territory where Stygian cosmic drone is concerned. Even knowing how adept Pavel is at this style, I was quite surprised at how encompassing Gravity sounded on my headphones while dozing. Had to take them off at one point to make sure I wasn't hearing it from my regular speakers, as I'm sure drones that loud would wake the neighbours.