Yes - 90125

Atlantic/Rhino Records: 1983/2004

When I was young, I didn't know much, but I knew my Dad liked Yes. I also knew he played rock music in a rock band, and that Yes also played rock music in a rock band. Yet, in all the practice jams and rehearsals and sound checks, I never heard my Dad play Yes. With the logic befitting of a youngling who didn't know much, I suggested he should play some Yes in his rock band, to which my Dad gave a somewhat bemused smile, replying, “I couldn't play to their level.” This statement took me aback. To my young ears, songs like Owner Of A Lonely Heart, Hold On, and Changes didn't seem that much different than his covers of Loverboy and Steve Miller Band, and surely that's all the band Yes ever did.

Of course, I eventually learned just how expansive the whole Yes discography is, and why my old man felt songs like Heart Of Sunrise, Close To The Edge, or Gates Of Delirium weren't exactly bar-rock suitable (surely he's jammed to Wurm on occasion tho'!). Still, you can't blame a kid for thinking otherwise, Yes' hard pivot into arena-friendly rock anthems fitting them right in with the radio and MTV hits of the '80s, a far cry from their progressive '70s output. And it was all the work of one man, their new guitarist Trevor Rabin.

Truth is, 90125 wasn't supposed to be a Yes album, at least not in name, the band having gone their separate ways following Drama. Founder Chris Squire and drummer Alan White stuck together though, still enjoying their rhythmic mojo, but they needed someone as lead and guitarist, and happened upon Trevor's demos. Liking the cut of his musical jib, the two parties hooked up and even started recording some tunes as Cinema. A happenstance meeting with former Yes keyboardist Tony Kaye brought him into the fold, and feeling Trevor couldn't handle all the vocals while doing his thing on the ol' six stringer, Chris reached out to Jon Anderson for his thoughts. Jon liked what he heard, and after a marketing rep suggested they ditch the Cinema moniker, you've got a whole new Yes for a whole new decade (Trevor Horn helped produce).

Make no mistake though, Trevor Rabin's ear for rock anthems remains the dominate force in this album. Yeah, you can hear whenever contributions from Squire (those basslines!) and Anderson come in (oh man, does Jon's abstract lyrics ever clash with Trevor's simple prose – sounds great tho'!), but for radio-ready rock, there's still some exceptional songcraft going on in these tunes: key changes, time signature variants, wacky solos, and all that good stuff prog rockers are known for. It's just not key features anymore, little asides where these musicians get to show off for fun before returning to an impossibly catchy earworm for a powerful chorus. 90125 may be Yes' most 'obvious' album, but I'd take this over most hair metal of the decade any day.

MUX - 2005 Live-PA Demo

promo: 2005

I wonder how many of these exist out there. Like, even from my tiny, backwater home-town, I've come across a number of them. Hell, I technically made one, when a couple buddies and I borrowed our fathers' music gear and started jamming out some really, really, really amateurish Primus-inspired nonsense. We recorded our efforts to a few tapes, but fool ye' be should thou seek to purchase a demo of The Festering Rat-Heads. Point is, music demos are everywhere, made by many who had an early itch to produce something, anything, but go no further than that. Maybe they found a musical calling elsewhere, or other life commitments prevented them from following through. Whatever the case, it seems no matter the level of talent involved, only one out of thousands of demos blossom into an actual career with signed records distributed through a label, even if but a short one.

MUX though, I always felt he coulda' been a contender, making live acid techno at a time when the genre was pretty much a forgotten relic of the '90s. Yeah, the Stay Up Forever posse were still kicking out the jams with regularity (they never go to sleep, see), but they had that legacy momentum going for them. Ain't no where else on the globe peddling that stuff in the mid-'00s, much less the West Coast Of Canada. So you gotta' give it to MUX (Drew Smith to the Pacific Naval Patrol) for sticking to the sound he loved best: 4am bangin' acid techno.

Four tracks long, this live-PA outing picks up right where the London Acid Techno crew have remained for two decades. Okay, it's not pure TB-303 action in play, as authentic machines are limited and difficult to come by, but the essence and soul of acid remains. For folks starved for the stuff in a region completely devoid of it, MUX's stuff is the right stuff indeed. It's got the thumping beats, the looping vocals ripped from sci-fi movies (I'm not inconsistent, you are inconsistent, dammit), the tweaky acid builds, and... um, okay, that's about all there. It's acid freakin' techno, exactly what you'd expect, delivered as well as you could hope from someone not within the Stay Up Forever inner circle.

Though he probably could have sent some music to the London Acid Techno Crew for consideration, MUX recorded little else after this. He still keeps semi-active in the Vancouver scene though, a prominent promoter for the long-running, bi-annual live-PA showcase Sequential Circus, even occasionally breaking out his old gear for another live acid rinsing. Mostly though, Mr. Smith's found his true calling gallivanting across the Pacific shores in his own sail boat. I'm serious! Like, if there's ever a reason to not follow through on a career in techno, that's good enough for me. Maybe I can hire him sometime in the future for an expedition to Kerguelen Island, have an acid techno party on the loneliest place on the map.

Dr. Dre - 2001

Interscope Records: 1999

A Very Important record, this, accomplishing many things all at once (hay, guys, remember all those G-funk rappers!?), forming ripples in the world of hip-hop still in effect. For sure it brought Dr. Dre back to the forefront of rap discourse, a strange achievement when you reflect on what he'd accomplished as a producer throughout the '90s: popularizing G-funk, discovering Snoop Dogg, crafting some of the biggest hits Tupac and Blackstreet put out. Hip-hop is fickle though, eager to flock to the next big hype as established vets start piling on the years. Following the flop that was The Firm, with Southern rap making huge commercial inroads (never mind its quality, No Limit Records was a marketing juggernaut), and you can understand why folks figured a guy who made his name ten years prior would have been regarded as old-hat.

Then along came a white saviour, and suddenly everyone was talking about Dre again. Eminem must have done more than given the good Doctor a new protégé though, as Mr. Young hit the studio again for a new album of his own. Not that he needed to prove he could still drop rhymes as he did with The Chronic, but hey, when you want to emphatically put to rest whether you 'still got it', you go at it with all you got. And he sure done did that, folks still holding out against hope that he'll release a way-overdue follow-up to this album. Man, just let it go already. Dre's got headphones to sell, yo'.

Right, Dre's not much a lyricist, and the truth is 2001: The Nu Chronic doesn't do much to dispel that fact. When he's poppin' off about his past successes, reflecting on changes in the rap game, taking down his doubters (The Watcher, Still D.R.E., What's The Difference, Forgot About Dre), or even offering a heartfelt tribute to his dead brother in The Message, the Doctor easily holds his own among the plethora of guest spots. Half this album goes on about fucking women though, topics far more capably handled by smooth cats like Snoop Dogg and Nate Dogg (and outright douches like Kurupt). Anytime Dre goes on about “fucking bad bitches”, he almost sounds apologetic to his wife in doing so. Sorry, hun, but the boys need their strip club anthems.

Whatever your thoughts on lyrical content, no one denies that 2001: A Chronic Odyssey is all about the beats Dre and Mel-Man crafted here. No matter how tuned out I get hearing about 'guns, blunts, 40s, and bitches', each G-funk cut on here keeps me coming back for more, rhythms packing trunk-rattling punch with twitchy keyboards, plucky strings, and triumphant horns. And with so many of Dre's big rap friends on hand dropping rhymes (Snoop! Em'! X'! Dogg Pound! Devin! Roq! ... Hittman? Who that? And why's he all over this album?), 2001 comes off like a big ol' Westcoast gangsta' party that you're invited to. Yes, even you suburban white kids in middle-America.

Canibus - 2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)

Universal Music: 2000

For a very brief window, I was listening to every new hip-hop album that entered my little hinterlandian music shop. I didn't actually buy every new item, oh no; this one though, 2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus). I didn't know who Canibus was, but he was dropping bars with an intensity that properly drew me into the artform: battle-rap. Dudes like Del and Deck, firing off fiery metaphors and similes with such complexity and ferocity, few could stand toe-to-toe in the arena. And now here's a guy who's entire deal is doing such a thing, a full album's worth of such bars (and some other nonsense).

Jamaican born, commanding the microphone must have been in Mr. Germaine Williams' blood from the start, making a name for himself throughout the underground freestyle circuit in New York City. It got him noticed by some Very Important Persons in the hip-hop community, including LL Cool J and Wyclef Jean, the latter even producing Canibus' debut album. That... didn't turn out as his fans expected, Wyclef trying to mould Canibus into a commercial star. The album sold well enough, mind you, but heads wanted the real battling 'Bus. Thus for his follow-up 2000 B.C., Canibus throws down as hard as everyone hoped he would.

The album opens with a heavy boom-bap beat while various former bars are stitched together, eventually erupting with a triumphant fanfare as Canibus declares it's The C-Quel. And if that doesn't get you fired up, then the titular cut damn sure well, all apocalyptic choirs as dude doesn't hold back on proclaiming his lyrical greatness (while throwing a couple barbs at Wyclef in the process). The rest of the album pretty much plays out like that, Canibus coming in with a solid Eastcoast beat, going off on how great he is in a myriad of creative ways. Sometimes he brings in other famed lyricists like Rakim, Killah Priest, Rass Kass, and Kurupt, other times he goes off for an unprecedented one-hundred bars (100 Bars). Gander at one of my favourite verses from Doomsday News, for obvious reasons: “If I had half as many bars in gold as I had in lyrics when I flowed; I'd be the richest man on the globe; Niggas wanna know is Canibus gold? That's a stupid-ass question motherfucker, is Canada cold? 'Bout a thousand degrees lower than liquid nitro is.”

I can't say it's all gold, though. Life Liquid has Canibus spitting over-the-top ultra-violence and homophobia to show how 'street hard' he is (Watch Who U Beef Wit's a far better grimdark street cut – message!). A few beef jabs are fine, but Canibus does overplay it with Die Slow and Phuk U. Odd having Pharoahe Monch featuring solo on a pure freestyle in Horsemen. And no matter how creative he does get, hearing Canibus constantly telling you how awesome he is does wear thin by album's end. Beyond those quibbles though, 2000 B.C.'s a dope record for folks who dig rap's true lyrical potential.

808 State - 88:98 (2018 Update)

Universal Records: 1998

(Click here to bang your head against an impenetrable wall of text)

I've severely lagged in my 808 State gathering. Hell, it's almost shameful it took me until just last year to snag me a copy of at least one proper LP from the Manchester group, any LP. ex:el is a decent jumping on point, I suppose, but I'm certain most acid heads declare their first couple of records - Newbuild and Ninety - the only true 808 State albums you're supposed to have, even if you're not an 808 State fan. “But wait!”, say some, “Don't you dare dismiss their post-ex:el material either, Gorgeous and Don Solaris just as worthy of discussion as any of the band's seminal '80s work.”

Yeah, those too, though considering I've seen Gorgeous in the used-shops on occasion, I do have some suspicions of that one's overall quality. Strikes me as the sort of record that I would have stumbled upon back in my exploratory years, picked up to hear why 808 State were held in such high regard, and came away entertained but unimpressed. But hey, until I actually hear Gorgeous in full, I can't make that claim.

For now, all I have to go on is the fact only three of that album's tracks made the cut on this retrospective, whereas ex:el earned a whopping five out of thirteen potential slots. Not to mention none of the songs got a spiffy '98 update like Pacific and Cubik did. No, wait, this is bad logic on my part! Newbuild got jack-shite representation with 88:98, which follows that it's a completely rubbish outing. Well, we must concede it's the least commercially viable for a compilation such as this, but that's probably why so many True Heads adore that acid excursion compared to what came after. Only way you'd hear Flow Coma on the radio is via pirate options.

I cannot deny having 88:98 makes getting the band's post ex:el material a rather low priority. Yeah, you can argue this compilation also makes having ex:el redundant (or the other way around), but c'mon, tracks like Lift and In Yer Face are worth having as many times as possible! If this is meant to be a gathering of their best material though, then I've already heard all the highlights from Gorgeous and Don Solaris, everything else on those albums 'just for the fans' options. Then again, if I went by that logic, then I'd have assumed I wouldn't need anymore tunes off of ex:el, as there's no possible way the five on 88:98 are the peak. Then I heard ex:el, and realized they could have thrown even more on here than what's offered.

There, that should be enough circular rambling to sate anyone. As should be painfully apparent by now, I really have nothing else to add or update with 88:98. It's still a handy intro to 808 State, but far from a complete story. Besides, there's plenty of streaming options for that now anyway. Wow, the 'retrospective CD' market truly is dead, inn'it?

Ladytron - 604

Emperor Norton: 2001/2004

Phase 1 Ladytron had such a college-kid cool about them. You could easily imagine them hanging out at the A/V rec room in their matching Atari sports jackets, fiddling with archaic analog synths for fun. Or catch them chilling at a bubble-tea cafe between classes talking up Kraftwerk and Human League, lamenting such music lost artifacts of a bygone era. Following a late-night jaunt at an off-grid nightclub offering overplayed '80s hits, they'd hang out at an after-hours noodle house, sharing overheard stories of love-sick peers. Then they'd get it in their heads that all these interests could translate into some throwback synth-pop of their own. No pretense of super-stardom or something as daft as spearheading an ironic retro-revival. They had neither the interest, nor the marketing to accomplish as such. Just music-making on a shoestring budget, using used gear long abandoned by the industry at large, performing songs of a simple, intimate nature. Something like that, anyway.

While Ladytron was quick to grow and evolve from these humble roots, I find myself returning to their debut album more than the others, for no other reason than it captures the band in a moment they couldn't replicate if they tried. They gained more gear, stronger song-writing ability, and overall better production in subsequent records, thus there's an undeniable charm in hearing early fussing about with comparatively clunky keyboards and bulky synths, wrestling with an off-key hook while a melancholy organ melody quavers overtop and Helen Marnie sing-whispers about doomed relationships... I dunno', there's just something strangely relatable here.

It's like the difficulty and unpredictability of their gear mirrors the difficulty and unpredictability of navigating relationships within their songs. Wondering whether the drunken mess you're going out with is worth your while, or whether the big-city life you wanted is as you'd imagined while living in a small town. These aren't world-shattering matters, but when you're young and aimless, having the chance to spend another breakfast with someone, anyone, can feel like the most important event ever. Musing over a boy taking the same girl you took to a movie never sounded so poignant, except perhaps as warbled by acoustic folkies.

That the topics in these songs are as simple as their paired synth-pop melodies, some thought Ladytron's act was initially a gimmick (hence them getting lumped in with gimmick electroclash groups). After two decades of studio advances, why would anyone make pop music with such difficult music contraptions, some of which barely created sounds that could be considered musical? It definitely got them noticed out of the pack though, a group crafting surprisingly catchy tunes while sounding as rough and unpolished as any garage rock band of the day. At a time when pop music was as slick and corporate as it would ever be, hearing something just as ear-friendly but far more authentic and real was almost a God-send for Serious Music Aficionados. Why yes The White Stripes were also very popular around this time, why do you ask?

Asura - 360

Ultimae Records: 2010

For the longest time, 360 was a reminder of just how down and out my mental state was in 2010. I should have been hyped over Asura's follow-up to Life², ecstatic that the dude that introduced me to Ultimae Records had returned. Plus, the label itself sent me a digital pre-release to review, practically a dream come true, right? Only, my time writing reviews for TranceCritic seemed at an end. I still accepted that digital copy, but felt like a cad doing so, uncertain whether I'd commit fingers to keyboard for them. It didn't help I was still in “MP3 iz bad” mode, with quality playback options limited, so my initial reactions were gonna' be tainted regardless. And then, after playing 360, I came away from it so disappointed, I almost gave up on new music completely. A total over-reaction, true, but man, after suffering through the 'sidechaining era' of trance, hearing Asura indulging it on Atlantis Child felt like a betrayal of Ultima 9 / Mass Effect 3 proportions.

Obviously, I've come around to 360 many years later. Really, there were songs on here that I liked right off the bat regardless (oh man, is Halley Road ever lush!), but that soured first impression curdled any replay desire for a while. It's honestly taken me this long, actually sitting down and analyzing this album for the purpose of a review, that the veil finally was lifted. Yeah, Atlantis Child is still kinda' wonky, in that it sounds more like Charles Farewell tinkering around with new effects rather than making a solid track. The rest though... oh my!

Right, it's no Life², in that 360 doesn't hit quite the same highs as that album does. There's still some honest-to-God quality tunes here though. All of his psy-chill productions (Regenesis, Erase, Longing For Silence, Le Dernier Voyage) hit the same spaced-out, sweet spots as his earlier material, with a few new, glitchy tricks thrown in for good measure. Altered State works a most tasty prog-psy groove, one of the best Asura's ever produced. The aforementioned Halley Road takes the best parts of Galaxies, and cranks the uplifting feels even higher, while Virgin Delight does all it can to melt your heart into PLUR goo (was Solar Fields offering tips?). Elsewhere, El Hai and Getsemani show off Mr. Farewell's orchestral chops, though I'll still take Golgotha over these.

Atlantis Child aside, the only real criticism I can level on 360 is that, as an album, it doesn't flow quite so well. For example, the sombre Getsemani would make for a lovely, reflective closer, but is instead placed two tracks from the finish. I suppose it works as a transitional into the more positive lead-out of Le Dernier Voyage and Virgin Delight, but man, does it leave me emotionally defeated too, not ready to take more music after. Hey, maybe that's what contributed to my 2010 funk! No, it was the other things that were at fault.

Various - 100% Energy

Quality Records: 1994

Another of my earliest CDs, and a very educational one at that. No, go ahead and laugh – it really is quite adorable what I learned from 100% Energy. It's something I would have learned rather quickly anyway, but there's always that first one, opening your eyes, ears, and brain to all that electronic dance music has to offer and is capable of. I am, of course, talking about The Remix.

Yeah, I'd come across remixes before. My exposure was so limited at that point, however, I just assumed rubs on tunes like Age Of Love, Obumbrata, and Dominator were the original versions, not variations. Even the few remixes of 2 Unlimited hits I'd heard didn't sound that different compared to the radio cuts, at least enough for me to think much of it (still, that 2 Little Boys go with Twilight Zone sure hit harder). When I picked up 100% Energy (was given as a Christmas gift? I can't remember...), I was already familiar with a chunk of tunes in the track list: Urban Cookie Collective's The Key, The Secret, BKS' I'm In Love With You, Bad Boys Blue's Go Go (Love Overload). There are several others too, but I hadn't counted on hearing versions of them completely different from what I'd heard elsewhere.

My main point of comparison was Radikal Techno – Too Radikal, where four tracks from that CD also ended up here. Both Mars Plastic's Find The Way and R.T.Z. Belgium's In The Name Of Love are shorter, which I didn't mind since both tunes are rather monotonous anyway. That Deadly Sins cut though, We Are Going On Down, why does it have an added bell melody? The main riff's different too, more aggressive sounding, and where did the roller-coaster samples go? If that threw me for a loop, then hearing the original version of TRF Rave Factory's Open Your Mind... well, opened my mind. Joey Beltram's remix on Radikal Techno was minimalist and almost trancey, whereas here it's about as ravey happy hardcore as you could get in 1993. Complete opposite ends of the dance spectrum, and I was so clueless it could be done at all! Oh, and the limp Let The Beat Control Your Body from 2 Unlimited is featured here in its more festive X-Out In Rio Remix form, another “wtf?” moment for yours truly.

Okay, enough anecdotal blathering. 100% Energy is about as typical a eurodance compilation from Quality Records as you'll ever find. Other names on here include Diva Connection, Apotheosis, Dance 2 Trance, Q-Tex, Cardenia, and Intermission. DJ Dero's mardi gras nod Batucada comes prior to the 2 Unlimited rub, and General Base's Poison hits all my eurodance endorphin triggers. The CD is also 'mixed', in that everything's got hard cross-fade slams, some tracks hilariously clashing with what came before. Since I don't have many of these tunes and mixes elsewhere, I've kept 100% Energy all these years, but it's honestly barely worth a used-shop pick-up a quarter century on.

Global Communication - 76:14

Dedicated: 1994/1997

The only 'ambient house' album you're supposed to have, if you never really messed with the genre in the first place. Yeah, the Proper Critics of the music world have kind things to say about Adventures Beyond Ultraworld, Chill Out, Lifeforms, both SAWs, and a few others. For some reason though, Global Communication's lone LP always ends up in the 'best of' lists and 'Most Important Ambient Records' recaps from outlets that seldom give raver music much credit. Is The Orb just too stoner-goofy? Boards Of Canada too childish? Pete Namlook too dorky?

There's no denying 76:14 is a class album from Tom Middleton and Mark Pritchard. Already finding some techno success as Reload, the duo took a stab at the trendy (lucrative?) chill-out market with this new alias, showing just as much skill fusing ambient and associated genres of old (Berlin-School, New Age ...yes, really) with the beatcraft and dubby components quite common with their peers.

For sure there's charming pure ambient numbers like 4:02 and 12:18, harkening to the days of early Eno and Hearts Of Space. Not content navel-gazing with the pioneers, 9:25 and 7:39 adds some funk-hop rhythm to the pleasant synths and harmonies on display, while 9:37 goes all spaced-out with distant, minimalist dubby pulses – some serious Fax+ vibes on that one. Elsewhere, 8:07 and 5:23 may as well be the same track, building on a simple, pulsing arp with complementing synths and melodies straight from the book of space-synth Tangerine Dream. And who can go a 76:14 review without mentioning 14:31, a composition time and again hailed as among the highlights of early '90s chill-out music (that metronome!). Overall, the result is an album that doesn't stray too far from what ambient music of the era offered, but uniquely engaging enough to stand out from an over-stuffed scene.

Good music aside though, I'm still left wondering what it is about 76:14 that always places so high in lists compared to everything else released in the early '90s. Make no mistake, there were a lot of LPs put out at the time, many with synths and sounds similar to what's on offer here. Tom and Mark at least show stronger songcraft compared to others, no composition coming off as meandering, noodly music for its own sake. That's a remarkable ability considering some of these songs' lengths (hint: it's the titles).

I dunno. The more I listen to 76:14, the more I suspect it became a favourite of Serious Music Critics because it didn't have the same level of hype as the Orbs and Aphex Twins. Nor did Global Communication have such marketing muscle behind it like Virgin or Warp Records, Dedicated more known for their alt-rock releases. And without a major label licensing their tracks out, the music didn't flood the compilation market either. 76:14 was thus an album that you got to discover on your own, and were richly rewarded for your exploration. Small surprise many got so attached to it.

Paul van Dyk - 45 RPM

MFS/Mute: 1994/1998

I cannot deny being amused at seeing this album in the used shop. The thought process of its former owner vividly played out in my head: “Gosh gee, I sure do like myself Paul van Dyk, what with that lovely song For An Angel on all these trance-tastic mixes! But, the song wasn't on Out There And Back. Which one had For An Angel? Oh, it's this one, 45 RPM. Hey, it's even got two versions of it! I didn't even know you could do that with trance.” *plays the album* “Uh, what is this? This doesn't sound like trance. It's all so... plain, and simple, especially that first version of For An Angel. There isn't even any vocals or plucks on here. How can I 'OMG I DIE' to stuff without big, anthem singalong breakdowns? Ah, this is an old album, before Paul Oakenfold invented trance. Guess I'll sell it. It's not what I wanted.”

Myself, of course, was all up in getting my hands on some old school Paul van Dyk! Okay, not really, my interest in his musical output middling at best. However, finding any early '90s trance album in the used shops is rare 'round these here parts, so snagged that CD up I did so. Why has my grammar gone so wonky all of a sudden? Trancecrackeritis?

Beyond being Paul van Dyk's first album and initial home of For An Angel though, 45 RPM isn't a terribly remarkable trance LP, even for the year 1994. MFS had already released a number of memorable singles cementing the Mark Reeder print as one of trance's earliest tastemakers, with acts like Cosmic Baby and Effective Force leading the way. Known for having an ear attuned to catchy melodies through the DJ circuit, Paul's style caught the attention of the MFS team, bringing him on to lend his talents to various productions and remixes. When it came time to tag his name to his own work, however, instead of the type of trance MFS was known for, van Dyk opted for something a little more club-friendly and commercial in Pump This Party as a lead single. It didn't survive the '98 re-issue, for good reason. Stepping stones and all that, but it's hilarious to hear that as the intended hit single, rather than initially looked-over For An Angel. Different eras.

As for the rest of 45 RPM, yeah, it's an early trance album from Paul van Dyk. It's all competently produced and arranged, most hooks simple and subtle, though folks with cracked copies of Fruity Loops were knocking this stuff out by the turn of the century. A Magical Moment has a slower, groovier vibe going for it, while Ejaculoutro ends the album-proper on an ambient note, but little else leaps out from the norm. The '95 additions from the Emergency! EP replacing the Pump This Party tracks add more flavour to Paul's formula, which only highlight his earlier works as him still in a developmental stage.