Goasia - From Other Spaces

Suntrip Records: 2007

I don't know what's more remarkable: that it's been a whole month since I last covered a Suntrip CD, or that it's been a whole year since I last covered Goasia. Maybe the former, though September was a bit of a sluggish week for yours truly and this blog. Y'all know how this ADHD thing works. Ooh, new pet-project idea, such sparkly creative possibilities, let's explore that for a few weeks! Never mind a decade-plus long concurrent project getting waylaid in the process, that'll always be there. Forever... and ever...

So the fact I last covered this Serbian psy duo nearly a year ago is perhaps more interesting. Such an innocent time, just starting on this insanely comprehensive dive into Suntrip Records. I didn't think too much of their Amphibians On Spacedock album, going on about how I found it “corny”, as least lovingly so. Which hey, at least gives me spare word count in the here and now to go into more details about their history.

Actually, there isn't much else that's not the usual stock background story you hear from most psy trance acts, but at least they were among Suntrip's earliest signings. In fact, this From Other Spaces was the label's ninth release overall, so capturing them at that sweet spot of reviving goa trance for the full-on generation, but not quite having settled into the predictable formulas that defined neo-goa in the coming decade. Retro without sounding too much so, not so overwhelmed by modern production standards such that everything gets mushed and bricked. Goa that sounds clean and crisp ...but is it also 'corny'?

Absolutely not! Well, unless you find any and all psy corny, in which case, what are you even doing reading this far? Regardless of personal preference, From Other Spaces is fairly even-keel with its goa. All the sounds you associate with the genre's heyday are present and arranged at efficient levels. Tracks last as long as they need to without feeling like they're just aimlessly wandering between peaks, with little melodic and trippy tangents keeping things fresh as they play out. It's hard faulting any of it, and I'm sure when this came out in ye' olde year of 2007, it was another breath of fresh trance air after so many years of full-on dominance. Nearly forty (!!) albums deep into Suntrip's catalogue now, however...

Okay, it's still pretty good – I definitely enjoyed it more than Amphibians On Spacedock. It's an easier recommendation for those who are interested in diving into this micro-scene of neo-goa than some other items I've heard, though I can't say it'll be an immediate winner for those just getting their feet wet either. An album for those who need just a little more convincing, then.

As for Goasia, that's a wrap on my end where their discography is concerned. They released other albums and EPs elsewhere, but nothing else for Suntrip. *whew* Another artist ticked off the list. Only took a year to get there.

Ugasanie - Freedom And Loneliness

Cryo Chamber: 2020

Ah, the life of the hermit. Unshackled by societal necessities, uninhibited by that which is expected of you. The master of your realm, answering to no one, only subservient to the whims of nature herself. Such self-determinate isolation has its drawbacks though, most prominent of which the crippling depression that can settle in detached from any and all communal comforts. Some claim the land is your company, connecting to the essence of mother earth itself, but what happens when even that's a barren waste? Rock lichen makes poor conversationalists, much less whatever stray migratory bird happens your way. Life's proven astoundingly resilient to most climates upon this planet's surface (and below!) but there's still regions few dare to traverse for good reason.

This is of course taking things to an extreme, but then Pavel Malyshkin has never shied away from exploring the most inhospitable clime's of terra firma. Throw in the existential dread that comes with trying to survive in such environments has its own intriguing considerations where dark ambient is concerned. I think that's what piqued my interest enough to spring for another Ugasanie outing, the title. There's some romanticism in living off grid, absolutely, but what cost does it come with? How addled does the brain become when so detached from society? Do you turn into some affable goof like Radagast The Brown (as seen in the Peter Jackson Hobbit movies), or perhaps something far worse, far more sinister and self-destructive?

I wish I could say Freedom And Loneliness gets deep into such concepts, but no, it's a fairly straight-forward drone excursion Ugasanie takes us on. It's still captivating in that frigid way most of his releases tend to sound, but this is quite well-tread territory I've traversed from him by this point. Kind of the reason I started drifting more towards his Silent Universe alias, not to mention a couple collaborations with other dark ambient artists.

Things start off promising, in a journeyman sort of way. The first few tracks paint a picture of arriving at your new residence due to circumstances outside your control (damn, that's some frigid waters sounding in Cold Coast). Since you're now here in this Dead Wasteland, however, you might as well make the best of it, maybe even conduct a little Ritual to get better acquainted with your surroundings.

Following that though, the album goes about as deep into the foreboding drone as Ugasanie ever gets. Which hey, does keep the album's theme consistent: the relatively 'upbeat' first half of freedom contrasted with the bitter loneliness that follows. It unfortunately leaves the second half rather repetitive and uneventful, save a sombre piano piece for closer Sorrow. And I don't want to undersell how effective Pavel is at creating an appropriate mood and tone given the subject matter, I've just heard him do it plenty times before. If Freedom And Loneliness happens to be your first Ugasanie session though, then this is a good primer into his body of work.

Natural Life Essence - Forms Of Life (Other Versions)

Liquid Frog Records: 2019

When I saw this was subtitled Other Versions, I thought I might have another skippable item from N:L:E on my hands. Not that there wouldn't be something worth talking about here, but with so much still to get through in this discography (just... so much), cutting corners has become a must. I figured if these were just remixes, I could refer back to them whenever I got around to covering the original tracks proper-like.

After checking through what material of his I did have, however, I realized I didn't have the original tracks! That... couldn't be right? I bought his entire catalogue as it existed on Bandcamp, they had to be there! This being an earlier release, there weren't many options they could be hiding, yet sleuthing through the comparatively scant items available, I found nothing. Could there be *gasp* other Natural Life Essence albums out there, that didn't even reside on his crowded Bandcamp?

Indeed there is, though far as I can tell, this is the only item that exists as such. I can understand why it wouldn't be among Juan Pablo's own catalogue though, one of those 'label rights' things that makes redistribution of one's own music at times a sticky situation in streaming circles. Heck, that might even be why he went about releasing this particular EP, artists doing 're-recordings' or 're-masters' or 're-mixes' that skirt around rights technicalities.

I have no idea if this is the situation surrounding the original Forms Of Life as it appears on Ovnimoon Records, but then I don't know much about that label to begin with. They seem to have a lot of material though, one of those multitude of psy trance labels that sprung up in the past two decades, and still going to this day. I can't say I recognize much of anyone on their roster though: a lone AstroPilot item here, a LemonChill there, and... yeah. Still, they were releasing CDs for a spell, so can't be all netlabel bunk, can it? Haha, oh, if you think that, then you really don't know psy trance labels very well.

Anyhow, I can't be bothered doing a compare-and-contrast between the original Forms Of Life, so here's what we get with Other Versions. Lapse (Little Snail) (Lucky Return Mix) does the N:L:E spritely ambient thing with a little pulse of a rhythm that invokes something more mysterious and Middle Eastern. Liquid Frog (More Rain Mix) does... Hey, that's where Juan Pablo got the name for his self-release label, isn't it! Cool. The track gets closer to the realms of ambient dub, which is pretty much a brand standard for N:L:E even this early in the project's lifespan. Nomad Dragonfly (Tranquil Wind Mix) is the most interesting of the lot, if you like your pure ambience with nice field recordings, sweeping synths, and deep meditative tonal harmony. And finally, Symbiosis (Insects Gathering Mix) gets back to the spritely ambient style as heard in Lapse. Yep, all par for the course.

In The Face Of - The Formless

self-released: 2024

(A Patreon Request)

Not also a 'skip the queue' one at that, but this requester, oh they're clever. Rather than have their item sit somewhere in alphabetical purgatory for who knows how long, they have me covering an album that slots damn near the front of the current queue. See, folks, there's always ways to manipulate established systems to your own favour! Or it could be just a massive coincidence the request coincided with my backlog's current status. Be one heck of one if so.

In The Face Of is David Miller, a rather new project for the chap, though how long he's been an active producer, I'm not sure. There isn't much info on him on his Bandcamp page, and good luck finding out which David Miller he is within Lord Discogs' tomes.

Pretty sure he's not the Scottish David Miller of FiniTribe, nor the classical theorbist David Miller. Guaranteed he's not the old-timey West Virginia guitarist David Miller (he dead), much less the label mogul David L. Miller (also dead). More alive is the country bassist David Miller out of Texas, also the Juilliard graduate classical viola player David Miller, but odds are In The Face Of isn't them. Hmm, there seems to be a running theme of David Millers at least being capable musicians with string instruments, so maybe this David Miller is too. But then there's a trumpeter David Miller, a hip-hop singer David Miller, and a 'pop-opera' tenor David Miller! How many David Millers do we have on this website anyhow? Thirteen... twenty-one...forty-four... sixty-one... seventy-four... eighty-three... My God...! I've fallen into a multiverse of David Millers!

What I do know about this particular David Miller is his influences for this debut album, specifically the industrial and dark ambient sonic experiments of Zoviet France and their offspring (Rapoon being my usual go-to). That's definitely in my wheel-house, forever fascinated by the sound collages invoking imagery of societal collapse, but it's a delicate balance. Under-production can leave it sounding hollow, while going too far the other way leads to noisy power electronics, a scene I really don't have much time or use for in my regular listening habits.

Fortunately, The Formless mostly hits that sweet middle-ground, where the overbearing presence of atonal drone never completely extinguishes whatever musical ideas Mr. Miller offers up. Don't get me wrong, closer Golden Dawn grinds things out with the best. Most tracks keep things on a more subtle tip though, where rhythms have room to march along, samples are clear even when warped, and the melancholic harmonies seep through the digital effects.

While each track is distinct and the album's overall tone is consistent, it's another one of those experimental drone outings that really isn't the easiest to detail. There's only so many ways I can type “industrial grit” or “dark ambient atmosphere” before it grows redundant, which kinda' defeats the purpose of an LP titled The Formless anyway. More of a 'vibes' session, as the yoot' might say.

Stereo Raptor - Digital Death

self-released: 2024

(A Patreon Request)

And a 'skip the queue' one at that! Boy, it's been a spell since one of those dropped. Not that the whole Patreon thing is some massive revenue stream to begin with. The few that do trickle in seem content letting their requests sit patiently in the alphabetically ordained queue, even if it's taking me so much longer to get through it these day.

Anyhow, Stereo Raptor is Eduardo Calçada, a Portuguese artist who lists a lot of genre influences among his interests. After listening to his debut album, that certainly tracks, running the gamut among various elements of modern dubstep. Whether it's actually good, however, I haven't a clue, my frame of reference for this stuff no greater than whatever abrasive noise I might hear passing by The Village stage at Shambhala at any given time. There's stuff on here I liked, don't get me wrong, but also stuff that, well... Hey, not everything in music is made specific to my particular taste, which is why I generally don't go out of my way to hear it (much less buy it for myself). When someone's willing to pay you to give it a shot though...

Let's get the stuff I don't like out of the way, since there's not as much of it as I thought going in. There's brostep on here, the sort of aimless, mid-range wobbly noise that I simply don't abide by. Only two tracks really feature it prominently though, an early one and a latter one. Symphony Of The Nightmare at least tries to spice everything up with melodic pianos and such between it, but when the wibbly-wobbly comes back, pure check-out time for yours truly. At least that's a little more tolerable than Gorgonopsid Massacre though, as pure a bro-headbanger as the rail-riders will ride the rail with. Have at it, mates.

In between those is mostly a lot of 'deeper' dub (riddim? Possibly, but who knows with dubstep micro-genres). I actually didn't mind these cuts too much, mostly because they were relatively shorter, averaging in the two-to-three minute mark. Get in, throw in your sound manipulations, get out. Nice. Still, would have liked a longer session of Rotten Unholy Synthesizer, if only because some of those electro-belches reminded me of LongWalkShortDock at his heaviest. Not a bad comparison, nosiree.

Really, the closer to death metal Stereo Raptor got, the more I got into this, which is funny considering hearing the opening metal growl in No End Downfall was almost an instant turnoff (sorry, just can't ever take it seriously). Yet that Automation track near the end, that hit that sweet 'groove metal' flow that's endeared Pantera as a guilty pleasure for years on end. Just, y'know, with a little extra Fear Factory digitization thrown on top. And hey, some doom, dark ambient drone to end on! Feels at total odds with the brostep that came before, but maybe there's actually a thriving 'drone-bro' scene out ther- Haha, no, I couldn't even finish it.

Solar Fields - Formations

Sidereal: 2022

There was a time I couldn't wait to hear a new Solar Fields album. Getting the CD in the mail from Ultimae Records, marvelling at the shiny, smooth texture of their product, getting psyched to hear all those wonderful ultra-positive vibes in widescreen sonics. Good days, f'sure, but things changed, Magnus setting up his own label, working to reissue his older material through it and all that. He did release an album during that time, Ourdom, which while good, didn't seem to have the lasting appeal as some of his older works. I couldn't help wondering whether he'd done all that he could now, future albums relegated to a comfortable familiarity without pushing too far into genre explorations.

It was quite the wait indeed, Formations six years in the making. Then I added two more, letting it sit in my queue for its alphabetically ordained time to listen to it, rather than throw it on in hot anticipation. That kind of sums up my recent feelings on Solar Fields though, doesn't it? “Yeah, it's nice that there's some new music, but I'll get to it whenever I get to it.” Was my lukewarm reception justified, or did I do myself stupid putting Formations off for so long?

Well, it's definitely Solar Fields in a classic sense, in that holy Hell, does he ever unleash some of those prime ultra-melodies from the days of yore. Not only does he do so, but somehow keeps upping the ante as the album plays out. Seriously, the whole thing could have perfectly ended after the mind-bending Star Carnival and perfect coda Between Mirrors, but no, there's still a third of a record left. How can he even follow that up?

By going a little more conceptual, I guess. Always 034746 sounds like Magnus' stab at something more Berlin-School, though obviously done to his ridiculously rich and full production standards. Heck, I can't help but detect a whiff of prog-rock in there too, but that may be more due to the use of more regular sounding drums and guitars. Speaking of, I couldn't help getting some Vangelis vibes off Motion Horizon, specifically Alpha (aka: the other piece of music everyone associates with Carl Sagan's 'Cosmos'). Nothing outright, mind you, just the way it does a very calm, gentle start, building into a big, rapturous crescendo. Come to think of it, that's been a Solar Fields trademark for a long while too. Huh, wonder why this particular track made the connection for me.

I know I'm jumping all over the place with Formations, but it's kinda' a funny album like that. On the surface it's about as Solar Fieldsy as it gets, but it makes you want to go back to hear something again, even before the rest of the record finishes. A relatively weak album narrative is likely the reason for this, but who cares about that when you just want to hear those riveting high points again? Not this person, I wager.

Purl - Form Is Emptiness

Archives: 2016

In my mind, Purl will always be a Silent Season guy, for one rather silly reason: his album Stillpoint was the second CD I ever bought from the label. And a humdinger of a record it was, so perfectly capturing such a sublime vibe the dub techno print cultivated at that point. Never mind that would end up being Mr. Cimbrelius' last release with Silent Season, or that he'd only had one other item with them before (Deep Ground). In my mind, Purl was Silent Season, and always will be.

That's obviously completely erroneous though, Ludvig shopping the Purl brand among many labels throughout his career. Heck, even by the time he'd put out Stillpoint, he'd already had more albums out on Dewtone Recordings than any other label. The following year, however, he made his debut with a little ambient print just getting their feet wet, with a similar aesthetic to Silent Season (densely layered dub drones, naturalistic cover art). He'd go on to release many more there, plus their off-shoot print. For all intents, I should be thinking Purl as an Archives guy more than a Silent Season guy. Nope, still can't quite shake it.

Purl being on Archives makes sonic sense, and Form Is Emptiness delivers exactly what you'd expect of the pairing. Ludvig's drone tones are given more prominence, but his dubby rhythms aren't completely jettisoned either. In fact, they're often downright heavy, some serious low-end throb going on in the track Unlearn even as gentle, ethereal pad work weaves through the bass. Elsewhere, Under Mjuka Vatten and Willow (Graft I) keep the dub techno pulse steady, focusing more on the subtle harmonic tones layered overtop. And if final track Terra Lumina, at sixteen minutes in length, didn't make room for at least a little beatcraft during its runtime, it'd be a big waste of sonic space indeed.

Still, Archives is generally more an ambient label than a dub techno one (there's Faint for that), and Form Is Emptiness offers the beatless stuff too. Vissna washes layered strings and synths like waves upon a seashore, while the titular track expands on Vissna's ideas to grander scale. Not to mention most tracks have at least some ambient dithering at their starts, gradually leading in whether there's a rhythm or not. Yep, there's all the things happening that should make this a standout Purl album. Well, almost.

Honestly, I think this is more an Archives issue than a Purl one. The label, while very dependable at providing a particular type of ambient, does tend to sound rather samey. I've brought up this critique before, and it holds true with Form Is Emptiness, a sense of repetitiveness settling in as the album plays out. Having heard Ludvig across many prints now, I can only conclude this is more him making music in the Archives style. Great if you're down for more with a little dub techno rudder, but may not leap out at you as essential as his other releases.

Photek - Form & Function

Virgin: 1998

I guess this was the only, non-single item left in Photek's early discography I'd yet to nab. Granted, it wasn't terribly high on my 'must-have' list, the very odds-n-sods nature of it all. New music from Mr. Parkes seems mostly at an end though, save the occasional collab' and some score work. Which is fine, the Photek legacy well earned and deserved to rest on a bed of laurels. If I want to hear more of that vintage drumfunk sound, there's plenty of new cats more than willing and able to pick up where Rupert once led. Still, that lingering OCD of mine, itching to at least complete the Photek set, such as it is. Sure, I'll grab Form & Function, should I spot it for a dime in some Discogs Seller collection.

Unfortunately, there's no getting around the 'hodgepodge' nature of this compilation. When you round up a bunch of remixes and b-sides, it's difficult enough sorting them into a consistent flow. Never mind the fact this was coming off Modus Operandi, an album that, while perhaps a little vacuous overall, at least had an identity to itself front to back. Though hardly justified, comparisons are inevitable, Form & Function forever saddled with the big brother that is Photek's debut.

That albatross sorted, let's dig into what we do get with this CD. Separated by two halves, the first deals with the remixes, the second rare stuff. Your mileage will probably vary whether you want to hear classic Photek or other people having their way with his tunes (“why not both?” asks the little Mexican junglist girl).

Funny enough, the first remix featured on Form & Function comes from Photek himself, a little modernizing of his early single of The Seven Samurai. The original is included among the latter tracks, so you can hear for yourself Mr. Parkes' evolution. Like, from the jump, you can hear how he was finding ways to manipulate the tech-step sinister sound into something even twitchier, though his drum programming was still reliant on a few tear-out moments. Not so for the remix, stripping things even further so you can really feel that bass resonance filling in all the empty space between the drums.

Anyhow, enough of that, here's some remixes from Digital, Decoder & Peshay, and Doc Scott. They all take Photek's sound into more familiar DnB territory: standard tech-step, a little jazzstep, and, erm, jump-up, respectively. Seriously, it's almost funny hearing the Doc try to force the most critically ridiculed jungle genre of its era into the most critically lauded. That said, I rather like J Majik's go with UFO, adding some nifty sci-fi synths that would have fit perfectly with other Modus Operandi tracks.

And the remaining Photek tracks? A little heady (Knitevision), a little funky (Santiago), a little atmospheric (Rings Around Saturn), a little classic (The Water Margin). A solid assortment, proving Parkes could mix things up. Man, the album needed some of these...

Yahgan & N:L:E - The Forgotten Civilization

Liquid Frog Records: 2020

Can't go long into a new month without another item from good ol' Juan Pablo dropping in again. Okay, that's unfair, sometimes several weeks going by before coming back to the Liquid Frogs Records catalogue. Just seem to be in another one of those 'several in a bundle' runs, like back in April. And hey, at least we're returning to one of his more intriguing aliases, Yahgan. Haven't touched upon one of those releases since, gosh, January? Let me check... (*clickity-clickity clack*) Oh my God! It's been ten months! I mean, thinking eight months wasn't anything to sneeze at either, but holy cow, really goes to show how long it's taking me to get through all this – as if we didn't need another reminder.

As for forgetting which month I reviewed Antarctica, I can only assume I associated the frozen album with the one obligatory snow day we had in January. Now that I recall though, I trudged through the stuff while listening to another N:L:E release, one of the Caravan Of Healing Sounds. And yes, the Rocky 4 soundtrack would have been more appropriate, but what're y' gonna' do?

As for other non-musical factoids surrounding this particular release, The Forgotten Civilization was the second album Mr. Giacovino put out with the Yahgan banner, though I wonder if he was uncertain it had much clout to stand on its own yet, tagging it with his N:L:E handle in support. It had been a couple years since he debuted it with Yahgan's Land E.P, I guess, an absolute age given Juan Pablo's relentless output. Give the polar themed project a little extra brand recognition.

Actually, I can hear why he may have returned to Yahgan at this point, as Mr. Giacovino was already going through something of a minimalist ambient excursion. He'd debuted the Caravan Of Healing Sounds series just the year prior, plus an album called Micro Ambient in between (which turned into a mini-series in of itself). Feelin' that subtle vibe, is what I'm sensing, and drone tones with an arctic theme have long been fertile ground for exploring that.

Speaking of exploring, I'm guessing archaeological expeditions of the southernmost end of South America is the loose theme going here. Cannot deny closing track Unknown Citadel (Submarine Encounters) does impart a sense of desolation, wandering ruins like... well, not quite an Atrium Carceri outing, but edging rather close to Cryo Chamber's domain. Be an interesting twist, f'sure.

The others, meanwhile, captures more the gentle awe of the realm, less about the loss one might feel in realizing whatever peoples did dwell here have long since gone. The gentle grace in traversing The Forgotten Temple at the start. Maybe seeing their souls dancing about in the more melodic pulses heard in Wandering Forms. Subsuming oneself into an underwater trove of hidden relics in Deep Waves. Ah, that descent into something more ominous with Unknown Castle makes better sense, following this sort of journey.

Nelly Furtado - Folklore

Dreamworks: 2003

You namedrop one Canadian pop singer, and the CanCon Commission comes knocking at your door. “How come you're reviewing a Japanese pop starlet, but not one of our own?” they ask. Look, chaps, I think I've been quite fair in my mandatory Canadian content. Why, I've even given two hip-hop acts that aren't Drake some shine here. Besides, R&B and pop really isn't my area of expertise, so...

“Nope, you're reviewing at least Nelly Furtado's first three albums, and if not, we're sending you to the Ellef Ringnes Island gulag.”

(Disclaimer: re-enactment – may or may not have really happened!)

Nelly Furtado was undoubtedly one of my country's biggest stars at the turn of the century. Not only popular enough to go multi-platinum on her debut, but managed to re-invent herself into a damn phenomenon, truly becoming a global star. By alphabetical decree, however, I'm starting with the record between those two flashpoints, the so-called sophomore slump of Folklore. Aww, c'mon, guys, it ain't that bad, really.

Following her breakout, however, she was something of an in-demand vocalist. Paul Oakenfold tapped her. Swollen Members tapped her (at the height of their popularity, no less). For most though, it was appearing on the remix of Missy Elliot's Get Ur Freak On that showed and proved she wasn't some one-hit wonder. That Nelly could hang with the pop world elite. Logic dictated that she should pursue that particular audience, maybe even work with Timbaland in an official capacity. Instead, she stuck with her original production crew (alt-rockers Philosopher Kings alum Brian West and Gerald Eaton) for an album that's, well, diverse, if nothing else.

There's no denying the album sounds big and bold, unafraid to toss whatever influence strikes Nelly's interest into the pot. Opener One-Trick Pony has a bit of folksy twang, follow-up Powerless throws in more Mediterranean influences (gotta' show those Portuguese roots), Explode aims for something more clubby with brisk rhythms and heavier low-ends, and Try... ah, there's the radio-friendly adult contemporary song I've heard for the last two decades.

All well and good, but I get why regular folks may not have connected with all the genre dalliances, especially when few offer quite the earworms Ms. Furtado had sang before. C'mon though, how can you not get a silly grin on your face hearing her crack up on the blues singalong Saturdays with Jarvis Church?