Lucette Bourdin - Oceanic Space

Dark Duck Recordings/Fantasy Enhancing: 2006/2021

We're not quite done with Ms. Bourdin just yet. I mean, obviously not, since I'm only half-way through a twenty CD box-set, but in this recent clutch of reviews, she's taken up quite the bundle of them, the sixth out of the last ten. Fret not, folks, for this will be it for a while now, at least until we hit the 'R's ...I think. To be honest, I keep forgetting just how many there are. Seems every time I figure there's a gap, *boop*, suddenly, another Lucette album.

That certainly happened here, Oceanic Space. To be fair, it is something of a 'blink and you'll miss it' outing. There's only three tracks, making it Ms. Bourdin's shortest album in that regard. However, they're lo-o-ong tracks, Space taking up over twenty-five minutes of your time, and Ocean a whopping twenty-eight and a half minutes. Opener The Beginning, by comparison, runs a 'brisk' nine minutes, and believe me, does it breeze on by. How weird that our sense of passing time can do that, eh?

But hey, just because some ambient music pushes the half-hour mark doesn't mean nothing happens. Plenty of sonic twists and turns can occur in such an excursion, right? Sure, if that's the sort of ambient you're composing for said piece. As should be abundantly clear by now though, Lucette generally engages with the more meditative, droning sort of ambient. And while I've heard her take some interesting paths in such lengthy compositions, those have mostly come from later albums, wherein she's had time to hone her musical craft. According to the order of which these CDs come in her retrospective box-set, Oceanic Space is her second LP, and, well, you can kinda' hear it too.

The Beginning is a nice enough opener, spacey synths gliding along sine waves in such a manner that treads the line between classic ambient and New Age music. There definitely is a bit of the ol' Fax+ vibe to this one, so maybe that association germinated with fans of Namlook's label started much earlier than I suspected. And again, I'm surprised that, despite its nine-minute run-time, it seemingly plays out in quick fashion. Maybe my brain just wanted it to go on for longer. The fade-out certainly hints at something more on the horizon, subtly tugged away just as you're getting warmed to it.

Space gently sets off with tranquil pad work, gradually layering more tones as the piece progresses. Once the elements are all in play, however, it doesn't really go anywhere, Lucette content in letting things play out as her muse sees fit. Again-again, this would be fine for a shorter piece – say, a dozen minutes or so – but at nearly half an hour, tends to slip into background noodling for its own sake. Same goes for Ocean, an even subtler piece in its use in harmonic tones. It's fine for ambient of this nature, but doesn't do much to stand out from an overcrowded field either.

Sykonee's 'Sportsing' Surveys: ATB

The turn of the century saw a lot of big, gimmick anthems from seemingly fly-by-night producers. DJ Jean with The Launch (bad horns). Zombie Nation with Kernkraft 400 ("whoah-oh-oh" chant). Darude with Sandstorm (Fruity Loops acid). Mario Piu with Communication (that f'n phone). Got'dang Hamsterdance! Yeah, some of these acts parlayed their insta-fame into some short term success, but few ever did much of note after.

At the time, you'd be forgiven thinking André Tanneberger would go the same route, his ATB alias forever tied to 9PM (Til I Come) (the slide-guitar anthem). And while I'm sure a large chunk of clubland still regards him as such, he's mananaged a fairly sustained career since, regularily among the top jocks billed at many a festival for two decades now. Not only that, but he's maintained a rather robust discography in that time. Well heck, I actually did like his two early anthems in 9PM and Don't Stop!. Maybe there's something to this man's muse that gave him a career more sustainable than all the other acts he got lumped among so early on. I wager that's worth a Discography Dive, so let's check it out.

Well, that took longer than expected. I had no idea André had released so many double-LPs. Can't say I came away overly satisfied with this one, but there were very few moments that had me cringing either. Solidly middle-of-the-road dance pop for the most part, with enough interesting chill-out moments to keep me engaged for the long haul. I think, though, I need to hear something a little more dynamic for my next Discography Dive. Maybe it's about time I got Shpongled...?

Iempamo - ...Now What?

Lemony Records: 2021

I feel bad for Iempamo. Oh, not specifically for the life she's had, though as a trans individual in the state of Kentucky, I can't imagine it being terribly easy. No, I'm talking about with regards to this review. It was requested via Patreon, but not via the 'Skip The Queue' tier, so the CD sat in the regular alphabetical stack like everything else. Unfortunately, the last time I dealt with 'N' albums was July ...of 2021! Not that ...Now What? has been waiting that long, but it has been over a year since I received this. Matters weren't helped that I also grabbed not one, not two, but three full discographies of artists in that time too, substantially inflating the length of my alphabetical queue. The fact I dealt with an 'N-titled' release from each of these artists right before Iempamo's (hell, four from one!), I wouldn't blame her for feeling a little bit trolled over this.

Anyhow, Iempamo's kept up a modest music pastime these last few years, releasing some dozen items through her own Lemony Records label, self-described as “sour and abstract electronica”. ...Now What? was the latest of these releases on her Bandcamp, and looks to have remained as such since. She freely admits to going through depressive states in our recent bought of Strange Days, music serving as an outlet like so many artists old and new. ...Now What? was apparently crafted as something of a reconciliation, coming out the other side maybe not so worse for the wear, but nor as hopeless as what was once thought possible. Hey, if even The Bug couldn't help himself succumbing to such trepidation in Fire, what hope any of us? Iempamo ain't sayin' it's all hopeless – after all, she got out of it – but what does one do in the aftermath? I don't know about any of you, but me, I go swimming a lot! Ain't no way I'm taking open pools for granted anymore, nosiree.

Anyhow, this all comes off as dressing to hang a concept off for a round of twee-leaning IDM works. Ol' school Aphex Twin and the like are definitely an inspiration, but then what isn't in this lane of music genres? I'm hearing more a connection to the output of Suction Records, who for sure occupy their own ambient-electro-pop lane as well, though Iempamo's sound goes a little more crunchy than theirs.

Some tracks, like opener What Now...?, Uncertain, and Hustle, bring heftier beats for sure. Mostly though, we're in that pitter-skittery, digital scratchy style of rhythms, often getting quite frenetic by track's end (Trans gets especially noisy).

Regardless, this album's strengths are in its melodies. If you like yourself some charming, IDM-pop jangles, you'll dig Iempamo's go with 'em. Again, I'm reminded of acts like Solvent or Skanfrom, music where you can imagine some robot coming to terms with weird, human concepts like positive emotions. Seems appropriate for someone coming out of a depression.

Lucette Bourdin - Nordic Waves Vol. 4: Autumn

Dark Duck Records/Fantasy Enhancing: 2012/2021

Seriously now, is there any season more pointless to The North than autumn? Yeah, I get that not all of the Nordic regions are True North, the good ol' Atlantic Gulf Stream providing temperate climates to latitudes not typically suited for it. But indulge me here a moment (as if you're not already doing so by reading my thoughts about music on a blog): what do you typically think of when it comes to fall?

The cooling temperatures, the changing colour of leaves, the shedding of said leaves, the harvesting of fruits and vegetables before the big freeze, and all that, right? None of which is applicable to tundra, and barely so even in taiga! Like, that temperature change is pretty abrupt, going from summer to winter almost in an instant. And those mosses and lichens sure ain't gonna' do anything fancy in the back end of the calendar year, no sir, much less in need of harvesting. Migratory animals are about the only thing I can think of associating autumn with The North.

Not that Lucette was unable to conjure up some music feeding off traditional imagery of fall in temperate clime's. I just think it would have made for an interesting, and even hilarious, bit of thematic consistency to make Nordic Waves Vol. 4: Autumn basically an EP. Y'know, a short excursion for a season that doesn't have much impact in the region as we know it. Heck, maybe even do the same for Vol. 2: Spring. And while we're at it, make Vol. 1: Winter a double-LP! Vol. 2: Summer can stay a standard album length though. We don't need anymore non-setting sunlight than we already have around the Arctic Circle.

Actually, I need to backtrack that a bit. After listening through Nordic Waves Vol. 4: Autumn, I'm not so sure Lucette was able to find much inspiration from the Phantom Season. Yeah, there's titles like Caramel-Colored Trees, The Smell Of Fallen Leaves, and First Frost, but I don't get the same sense of sonic imagery with the music on hand as with the previous volumes. Don't get me wrong, this is still a very lovely collection of moody, atmospheric ambient drone, but I feel like these pieces could have almost anything associated with them and sound just as fine. Heck, maybe even go the extra, classic-ambient step of pure abstraction, no need for a season's themes.

Take Shower Of Stars, a piece of shimmering synths and gliding pads. Beautiful, yes. Invoking autumn, not really. Or Pale Sun, as moody an ambient composition as we've yet heard in this series, but again, no feelings of fall coming to mind with it.

It's a funny one, this final entrant in Ms. Bourdin's Nordic Waves series. Musically, I actually kinda' like it the most, even if it almost have nothing to do with the season it's supposed to be inspired by. Maybe it needed to go spookier, tap into that Halloween vibe. Can't think about autumn without that day.

Lucette Bourdin - Nordic Waves Vol. 3: Summer

Dark Duck Records/Fantasy Enhancing: 2012/2021

Isn't it funny how when we think of Nordic clime's, we never think about the summer months? Heck, any Far North region for that matter. Our perpetual image of the world above the 60th Parallel is always one of ice and cold, and fair enough, it's that even when the sun hangs over the sky for over twenty hours a day (note: may no longer be valid in the near future from whence this was written).

But in terms of inspiration, it's the frigid winter months that get the most nods. Whether the melancholic reflection one does when wanting to hibernate, or challenging one's sense of self against inhospitable dark ambient tundra desolation, it's the long dark that gets the most rep'. Heck, even Ms. Bourdin wasn't immune to it, kicking off her Nordic Waves series with Winter. Summer, for all intents, gets the shaft in this regard, despite 'lasting' just as long as winter.

And well it should, as summer that far north actually kinda' sucks. Maybe not as much in Nordic regions, since they do benefit from some good propah' summer weather thanks to the Atlantic Gulf Stream, but that eternal sunshine, man. Just... never going away. It sets, but it's still light out, twilight lingering well past midnight. How can one get a good, recharging sleep when the sun wont set? Yeah, the winter may be bitter cold and dark, but at least you can sleep it off, recoup for another day. Folks have known to go crazy over summer insomnia, yo'!

Let's not dwell on that (for now...). Instead, Lucette opens Nordic Waves Vol. 3: Summer with Reindeer Frolic, a relatively light, airy piece of classical ambient with dancing electronics and glistening synth tones. It honestly feels more... wintery? Sorry, I just have a hard time picturing reindeer under a hot summer sun. Follow-up Midsummer Bonfire does a little dance with its shimmery, pulsing synths, which I suppose captures the essence of flickering flames nicely, but I dunno'. Ms. Bourdin's typical choice of synths have long had something of a cool, icy sheen to them, and that doesn't change much here either. I'm just not feeling Summer out of these tracks. Even Undulating Grasses, another fine pieces of 'dancing ambient', has me thinking springtime awakening over anything hot and humid.

As I said though, the idea of 'summer' in the far north has always been a little skewy, and perhaps that's the vibe Lucette felt as well. Light Waves, Twilight, and especially Heat Stroke mostly do the contemplative ambient drone tone thing, the latter of which stretching for nearly a dozen minutes in length. Even The Engine Of Nature, comparatively light-hearted with some piano, guitar, and percussion action, can't help but contain an ominous synth drone in support. It's almost as if Lucette can't wait for summer to be done. And as if to sell that perspective, final track August Buzz sounding positively uplifting and hopeful in its ambient tones. Yay, the season's almost done!

Lucette Bourdin - Nordic Waves Vol. 2: Spring

Dark Duck Records/Fantasy Enhancing: 2012/2021

Anyone else feel weird about seeing spring sitting at the second position of a seasonal series? I get why it's Vol. 2 of Ms. Bourdin's Nordic Waves run of albums, what with the whole thing kicking off on Winter and all. Spring had to follow, because spring always follows winter. Okay, maybe not on a planet like Venus, where its rotation is in reverse, so I guess winter would follow spring there. That's not a good example though, Venus' whole seasonal deal about as messed up as any planet can get – even the rolling ice giant Uranus has regular seasons, extreme though they may be.

Anyhow, what I'm getting at is we just assume spring would be the kick-off for any conceptual seasonal series, because of astrology or something. I find it rather nifty and, dare I say, daring, for Lucette to buck convention like this and shuffle spring over onto Vol. 2 of Nordic Waves. Take that, attention hog Aries!

Vol. 1: Winter ended on something of an upbeat tick, the subtly percolating synths of The One Hundredth Name Of Snow hinting at a world stirring from hibernation. Well, Vol. 2: Spring doesn't waste time in letting you know life is back to its busy, shining self, opener Return Of The Snow Goose all bright, shining synths harking more to the realms of modern classical synth composers than the usual Lucette ambient fare. Oh, and honking geese fly above on occasion, because that's just what I needed: reminders of the Canadian Cobra Chicken. I thought this was relaxing music!

You know what else spring is known for? Showers! ...or unrelenting rain, if you're in coastal regions like Norway and British Columbia. Nice of Ms. Bourdin to craft a track titled as such, though this one is a bit melancholic with its use of violin. Compared to the general moodiness of follow-up Anvil-Head Cloud, however, Unrelenting Rain is downright chipper. And speaking of geography shared by the Nordic regions and the Pacific Northwest, here's the gentle ambience and mysterious tones of Fjords, followed upon by more tranquility and subtle rhythms of Where The Forest Meets The Shoreline. We certain this hasn't turned into a Silent Season outing now?

That's all well and good if you're down for the fjord-pjorn (*cough*), but how about some propah' spring-time sonics? Lucette does spend some tracks bringing us from the ebb of March into the dawn of April, A Month-Long Sunrise doing that ambient drone thing of tones ever morphing into brighter timbre. Crossing The Equinox, meanwhile, gets more on that classic synth vibe, with rhythmic pulses and even pitch shifts. And what spring season is complete without the flooding of alpine meltwater, as captured by White Water – Calm Water, as peppy a tune as we've yet heard out of these Nordic Waves sessions? Not sure how The March Of The Trolls fits in with everything though. Probably Norwegian folklore, such critters forced into retreat from the increased sunlight, lest they turn to stone?

Lucette Bourdin - Nordic Waves Vol. 1: Winter

Dark Duck Records/Fantasy Enhancing: 2011/2021

Now we're getting deep into Lucette's discography, as there's nothing like a seasonal series to inflate one's catalogue. That's right, folks, you're looking at the start of a full week of Ms. Bourdin's works, so if all this box-set Retrospective coverage hasn't yet grabbed you... um, maybe stick around anyway? Who knows, maybe these will be the ones that finally hook the stragglers in!

Nordic Waves came about late in Lucette's musical timeline, which isn't surprising as most artists get more conceptual as their career caries on. Not that her music wasn't conceptual in the first place, in that most ambient music is all about the artistic concept of wallpaper music to begin with. If anything, focusing on a highly specific theme like the seasons of a particular region of the world substantially narrows the genre's potential abstraction. As for why the French lass would find inspiration with Scandinavian clime's, I honestly don't know. Maybe she had a childhood summer home there?

Winter is as appropriate a jumping-on point for this series as any, since one can't help but think of cold, snowy months when thinking of Nordic regions. Never mind that thanks to temperate waters coming off the Atlantic Gulf Stream, those coastal shores aren't nearly as frigid as most other areas along the same latitudes. You think The North, you think dark vistas with aurora borealis shining in night skies, their ethereal glow glimmering off snow and ice as tiny enclaves of warm lights huddle in remote clusters. At least, that's the imagery that paints in my head as opener Echoes Of The Wind plays. It's a mostly simple bit of ambient drone, but the way the synth pads glide along can't help but conjure images of Northern Lights dancing above.

Ocean Swells offers more of a leading melody within its pad layers, while Moonlight On Ice brings things down to more minimalist drone, melody subtle and gentle, as though the world is locked in content hibernation. Not to be outdone, Hibernation maintains such mood, while including softly ebbing windy synths, the track very much breathing you into a tranquil slumber as the outside world remains locked in ice. Meanwhile, fourteen minute closer The One Hundredth Name Of Snow actually perks things up a little, hinting at the coming warmth stirring everything awake once more.

The track that really caught my attention, though, was the comparatively shorter Shimmering Sky. Is it just me, or are those synth straight out of vintage Pete Namlook's wheelhouse? I've long wondered why Fantasy Enhancing was so hype in giving Lucette Bourdin a boxset restrospective, especially when there are so many (just... so many) other ambient artists out there who could have their own boxsets. And now I can't help but suspect this was one of the tracks that clued the Fax+ fan community into her sound, thus giving her a slight insiders-edge on everyone else. Or maybe it's just a big ol' coincidence. Stupid brain, making connections where there are none.

Epic SAD Sessions During Extreme Weather Conditions

I've never hidden the fact that I get hit with Seasonal Affective Disorder this time of the year, which isn't that big a surprise. Many folks, especially those getting up in their years, feel the slowing of motivation as the days grow shorter and colder. Add in the fact my line of work tends to get most stressful in the month of October, and you can imagine my mental health takes a bit of a beating. This year, however, was something extra, and when I set aside some time off to recouperate, I was down hard. For half a week there, I could not find motivation to do anything, sleeping for 14 - 16 hours a day. If this is what those who suffer from extreme depression go through, you have my sympathies. I could not imagine dealing with such a state of self on the regular.

To be fair, part of this was on me. Work and seasonal change is one thing, but I've also been physically pushing myself pretty hard this past month too. Don't get me wrong, I'm quite happy with the results of falling down the Fitness Hole, but shedding 35lbs in a two-month timespan is gonna' put stress on your body. Dropping to a weight not had for fifteen years will be felt, no matter how well you take care of yourself. Matters also weren't helped that Vancouver went from warm summer weather to deep, chilly autumn in an instant, with me wearing clothes very unsuitable for outdoor activity in such a massive temperature drop. No wonder my poor body finally said "Enough's enough!"

Ironically (or not), going through such a hibernatic spell seems to have done me a lot of good. It's the start of November, and I honestly can't remember the last time I've mentally felt so fresh and vital on this date. Time well tell if its sustainable, but for once, I'm not quite so dreading dealing with the final months of the year. Will that translate to an uptick in blogging activity? Well, let's not get ahead of ourselves...

Speedy J - Ni Go Snix

NovaMute: 1997/2021

The absolute limit ol' Jochem took his experimental side, this one. Of course, in techno circles of the latter end of the '90s, 'experimental' usually meant all manner of noisy rackets and wild distortions. Fair enough, the IDM leagues gaining plenty of critical praise and nifty Chris Cunningham videos for their efforts. Speedy J already had ties to the ranks of Aphex Twin and Autechre from his Artificial Intelligence days, so it'd make sense he'd find his way back there at some point, following similar paths they were already treading. Maybe rope in a couple like-minded chaps for a remix or two. Makes better sense than continuing to work with Banco de Gaia.

As an in-between single following G Spot, I have to imagine Ni Go Snix shocked a lot of folks. So much so that Jochem put a reassuring tag on the record that this was indeed, not, a new single for the up-coming album Public Energy No. 1. Don't worry, then, if it's not to your liking, it's just a one-off dalliance satisfying his need to go abrasive after all the plaudits for going so melodic on his last album. (or is it...!)

Well, just how noisy can one Speedy J track be? Pretty darn noisy, I'd say. Ni Go Snix is basically an electro track, but fed through so much distortion, you're hearing almost nothing but feedback on those bleeps and bloops. It's, like, electrocore, or electore. Ooh, that's one for the genre books! Look, if nonsense words like 'complextro' can get accepted, so can 'electore'. Anyhow, there honestly isn't much to this track beyond just how noisy Speedy J can make it, and with the Snix Mix, he makes it almost unbearably noisy indeed. This is, like hardectro!

Like A Tim doesn't do much with his remix, basically shuffling around the originals sounds for more of a freeform jam. Mike Paradinas, on the other hand give Ni Go Snix the good ol' µ-Ziq treatment, speeding the beats up to his brand of hyper drill 'n' bass action, then throwing in some spastic pad work and twee melodies in support, lending the track a rather Baroque vibe. Y'know, vintage µ-Ziq.

The CD version of this single – and by extension, the Bandcamp upload I snagged - did include a couple remixes for a track that appeared on the forthcoming Speedy J album: Hayfever. The Izm Mix by the hopeless obscure Jeroen van Dorsten turns in a future-shock heavy breaks tune that sounds like what The Future Sound Of London might have done to a Speedy J track if given the chance. The less obscure Sefan Robbers, meanwhile, maintains the future-shockiness, but opts for something a little more drum 'n' bassy, and is quite the sky-high mellow vibe after having gone so through much aural assault prior. How do these remixes stack against the original Hayfever? Heck if I know, I haven't heard Public Energy No. 1 yet. We'll find out soon enough!

Dance With The Dead - Near Dark

self released: 2014

Stepping back in time with this one, but what else is new with these discography dives, eh? Okay, my recent Twitter ones actually are chronological, but that's a totally different gimmick. Not that me buying up someone's entire catalogue off Bandcamp is much of a gimmick either, but at least my alphabetical stipulation throws a little variety in their sequence. Besides, there's a couple discographies I've gone chronological too, such as Pet Shop Boys and... hmm, gosh, is that all? Feel like there's more I could do, should do. What other act out there have I not done a single review of, but really do like, actually? There's got to be some.

Anyhow, I think we're well caught up on what's the deal regarding Dance With The Dead. Near Dark was their second album, third overall following the EP Into The Abyss. And if there was any indication it didn't take long for Justin Pointer and Tony Kim to figure out what their sound could entail, this here LP is proof-positive. For sure synthwave that leans heavy into its rockier attributes was well established by the mid-'10s, but these chaps, they figured out the perfect blend to push it just that little bit extra, a sweetening of melody and mush of mosh. I really can't explain it any better how their style of synths 'n' thrash is set as such perfect levels here, and carried on to this day. Is it for everyone? Probably not, but for what I want out this music, I couldn't ask for more.

I've got a lot of word count left to burn here, so how about some good ol' track-by-track descriptions, then. Opener Invader sets us off with a stomping half-time beat that marches along with backing arps and synths stabs before Tony's guitar gets its wailing solo action on. A fairly straight-forward tune, then unleashes some low-end shredding for a propah' head-bangin' finale. Now that your body is warmed up, let's up the tempo with Dressed To Kill with more of those gnarly bass-synths powering forward as synths do those vintage '80s horror movie riffs. A little muted breakdown gives us pause, then bring it all back for another sweet guitar solo. Go on, raise those devil horns, I know you want to.

Waves goes more the synth-pop route, the guitar action in support rather than the previous two, but Tony gets plenty of shred time in Midnight Never Ends, even as the synths get their trance on. Speaking of 'ravey' music, Andromeda does that thing Frankie Bones loves to do wherein it sounds like the music is coming from some distant area, maybe a warehouse, before emerging through the rain in full concert glory.

Holy cow, I've burned through a lot of words fast, and I still have half an album left. Uh, Eye Of The Storm: synth ballad. Near Dark: heavy rocker. The Pitt: heavy synther with soloing. Graveyard Shift: spooky rocker. Riser: closing credits-er. There, a vintage track-by-track review! Dope album, too.