Distant System - Infinite Continuum

self-release: 2019

It was over a decade in the making, so long that some wondered if there would ever be another album. Then, when all hope seemed lost, the long awaited album suddenly appeared, to much... well, not aplomb. Welcomed by long-suffering fans, for sure, but indifference from everyone else. Perhaps too much time had passed to make such a mark in the here and now. But enough about Tool's Fear Inoculum. I'm here to talk about another long-awaited record that happened to be released about the same time, Distant System's Infinite Continuum!

I generally don't anticipate with bated breath for new music from artists I like. And yet I couldn't let go of hoping and dreaming of Tyler Smith's follow-up to the criminally under-rated Spiral Empire, lingering thoughts of what it would sound like, how it might evolve, or if there was anywhere else he could take it.

Still, for as much as I came to adore the first Distant System album, I cannot deny the concept behind it wasn't the most original: prog-psy and psy-dub with a hard sci-fi aesthetic. As I continued my musical wanderings in search for more like it though, I found precious little life-signs of this style. It seemed Spiral Empire was wholly unique, a precious jewel unlike any other, like an ultra-rare resource that expands consciousness (or something). Such a singularity in this genre only made me appreciate it more, content in the assumption it was to be one-of-a-kind.

But Infinite Continuum did come out, and, for the most part, was everything I expected. In fact, it's almost structurally identical to Spiral Empire, with slower, downbeat tracks in the opening, chuggier prog-psy in the middle, a ramp-up in tempo towards the end, and ambient pieces bringing us out. The hard sci-fi vibe is maintained, plus is blessed by another Ultimae Mixdown™ from Aes Dana. It's safe to say Infinite Continuum is all I'd hoped for, yet I haven't quite gotten into it as much as Spiral Empire for a couple stupid reasons.

One, no CD, so I can't play it on my main stereo, but that's not the real issue. Nay, the main quibble I have is how, unlike Spiral Empire, this album isn't continuously mixed, losing that sense of grand narrative. More so, each track has a lo-o-o-ng lead-in and fade out, to such a point that, unless you have your volume cranked, you may not hear anything for almost half a minute, creating a lagging feeling of nothingness between. Which may be the point, really selling that whole 'universe is big and empty' vibe, but man, even the dark ambient dudes don't go to that extreme.

I do like what I hear though, even if it's taken even longer to properly warm to than Spiral Empire. And as this may be the last we hear from Distant System for a very long time (ever?), Lord knows I'll be cherishing it. Still ain't no one else sounding like this, believe you me.

Various - In Trance We Trust 021: Adam Ellis

In Trance We Trust: 2016

In all seriousness, why am I still collecting this series? Let me recap a moment. I first got Phynn's set (ITWT 011) because it looked like an interesting item to review for TranceCritic. I got a pile of others after relaunching this blog because I thought it'd make for a fun little gimmick week, what with all the guest review spots from Street Fighter Alpha 3 characters. I needn't carry on with that though, as clearly it ran its course with no other characters left to do guest reviews (no, Dahlsim doesn't count; nor the Final Fight guys, including Guy). I could have just left it there, but something drew me back, to the point I'm now looking to complete the full In Trance We Trust set, even the Nordic Editions. Is it the touristy cover-art? An actual, shameful enjoyment of Dutch eurotrance? Still paying back on a lost bet or dare?

I suspect the idea of this label has somehow taken hold, a concept that, in theory, I should enjoy. I've always preferred the harder, faster side of trance music since its earliest German days, but not so hard it falls into over-the-top parody. As promoted, In Trance We Trust is supposed to hit that sweet spot, and many of its earlier releases actually delivered what I'd hoped to hear, sporadically enough to entice me further despite the low batting average. It's like a TV series with a kick-ass theme song making you think you're in for a dope show, and perhaps has a couple classic episodes, but is mostly a lot of crummy acting with repetitive, cliche plots. Or voting conservative thinking this time their fiscal policies will sort things out instead of fuck everything up worse.

Anyhow, In Trance We Trust 021. It's pretty much agreed that Menno de Jong's relaunch of the label was successful, but could that momentum be maintained? In the label's tradition of tapping up-and-coming talent for a little spotlight shine, Englishman Adam Ellis takes the reigns of this bold new era in the label's history and basically delivers more of the same of what ITWT 020 gave, except condensed down to a single CD. There's the pummelling beats and strident anthems and never-ending breakdowns, but eh, about what I was expecting anyway. The set feels a bit front-loaded with vocal tunes, but is balanced out with some of the hardest modern eurotrance I've ever heard (which isn't much, to be honest).

I've seen this sound sometimes referred to as 'steroid trance', which is apt. It sure sounds like an ultra-beefy version of what the genre was like at the turn of the century. Like, Michelin Man bulky, or Macho Man Randy Savage at the end of his WCW run. Certainly not the lean, mean trance of the '90s, much like the Macho Man of his WWF run. Gosh, does that make early '00s trance NWO Randy Savage? Still capable and talented, but often overshadowed by all the egos in the surrounding environment.

Various - In Trance We Trust 010 - Collector's Edition 1

In Trance We Trust: 2004

I might as well complete the collection, right? Like, I'm only missing a handful of these compilations now. It'll be nice to say that I've a complete set of at least one long-running, on-going series should I show off all my CDs to someone. They'll say, “Boy, that's a lot of CDs, any complete collections?” And I'll say, “Yeah, one.” And they'll ask, “Is it Fabric? Balance? DJ-Kicks?” And I'll say, “No, nothing so prestigious.” And they'll say, “Ah, something more trancey then: Distance To Goa.” And I'll say, “No, not that either.” To which they'll ask, “Well, which one?” From which I'll reply, “In Trance We Trust.” After they'll inquiry, “But.. you dislike Dutch eurotrance. Why that series?” Forthwith I'll respond, “Because it was there.”

The tenth volume of In Trance We Trust's showcase mix series is unlike any other volume in its two-decade history, in that it's a 'best of' double-disc extravaganza! Look, it was the mid-'00s, when two CDs worth of music could still be considered a hefty amount to take in. The Black Hole Recordings off-shoot had been in operation for six years by the time it hit number 010, so I'm sure they felt the time was right for a little summation on their catalogue. Good thing too, considering the first creeps of trend-chasing decline would rear its head in the follow-up volume two years later (thanks, 'electro' house!). Say what you will about this early era of eurotrance, it at least knew what it was and made no apologies for it.

Like, I know I'm gonna' be in for breakdowns – oh lordy, are there ever breakdowns – but I don't hate these so much. I think I've just trained my brain to tune the naff bits out, and enjoy the elements that I do enjoy. The pumping rhythms, the spacey pads, the plucky riffs, the energetic leads, and, yes, even the occasional overwrought supersaw anthem, if tastefully done. Things still feel like in a state of flux in this period of eurotrance, the subtler, classy tunes still rubbing shoulders with outright cheese. And heck, even the cheese sometimes hits on those guilty pleasure endorphins the best of eurodance nails every time. Plus, the production isn't all unbearably bricked, which is nice. Ooh, I can hear the air between the beats!

As this is a 'collector's edition', there's no big spotlight on a guest DJ handling the mix, but Cor Fijneman does handle the CD2 set. CD1, meanwhile, isn't even mixed at all, making this the only disc in In Trance We Trust history to offer full, uncut tracks. I'm assuming these are the tunes that didn't fit in Cor's set, but still deserved highlighting of the label's history.

So lots of familiar names throughout, but one glaring omission stands out to my eyes: Fictivision's Ringworld. That's, like, my favouritest track from this label ever! No, I'm not just saying that because of the single's super-unique cover-art. It's a good trance tune, I swear!

Ugasanie - Ice Breath Of Antarctica

Cryo Chamber: 2018

I won't deny having some favouritism towards icy-cool looking cover art, but it's generally spread out among my other albums so it doesn't become a running theme. This is the third album out of the last four to go wintry though, enough that I'm sure some folks are wondering if something more than biased interest is going on. Heck, it could have been the fourth, but I held off on grabbing Ensiferum's From Afar – have enough Viking metal for now, thanks.

It wouldn't be so bad if we were going through a typical summer, with the heat and the drought and the forest fires and all. Some parts of North America are getting that as usual, yeah, but not in my neck of the rain forests. It's been comically dark and grey these past couple months, some of the wettest on record, with humidity you can practically swim in. Not that I want a return to the years of beige lawns and a constant layer of acrid haze in the air, but nor this far extreme the other way. Just enough that listening to a whole pile of CDs with frozen landscapes as the cover art is a soothing escape, not a reminder of miserable weather.

Actually, even in those ideal conditions, I'd hardly call Ice Breath Of Antarctica a 'soothing escape'. In traditional Ugasanie manner, we're taken to a realm of utter desolation, where no sane human being should wish to tread. In theory at least, but the south polar region has its share of tourists eagre to see penguins and southern elephant seals and... um, other fauna local to the ice caps while they last. Only during the summer months though. And preferably when there's ideal weather. While in the company of others, so as not to get lost roaming about. Pretty much the exact opposite of the conditions Ugasanie presents to us in this album, is what I'm getting at.

While Pavel has been Cryo Chamber's go-to guy for all things frozen over, his albums still typically have specific themes in mind. Explorations of abandoned Siberian science stations, the mental state of being overcome by the northern lights, and so on. No such 'journey' happens in Ice Breath Of Antarctica, unless you count being consumed in the absolute worst conditions you could possibly endure while venturing there. Second track Shores Of Antarctica is basically five minutes of bellowing winds whipping your face with freezing sleet before settling into the sort of empty, minimalist drone that's long been this label's breaded butter. You are alone in desolation, absolutely alone. Not even a stray penguin in sight.

The whole album basically plays out like that, unrelenting in consuming you within the polar continent's harsh climate. Some tracks feature sounds of being emersed within slow-moving ice, others offer a brief respite with quiet, reflective harmonies carried along the wind. Almost as if Ugasanie is asking, “well, what did you expect of the lands even The Thing couldn't survive in?”

Voyage - Genesis

Tech Itch Recordings: 2016

This is now the third album I have with Genesis as its title. Not the most ludicrous thing to occur, I admit; an amusing tidbit of info, nothing more. No, what makes this remarkable is the fact one of the other Genesis albums I have – care of dark ambient project Paleowolf – was released within the same month as this Genesis (December 2016). Does... does this happen often, in the world of music? I can't imagine so, even with generic titles like this one, but with so much being released all the time, the odds may be higher than anyone could imagine without studious cataloguing to confirm such statistical variances. Are there any chroniclers of Lord Discogs' tomes willing to find out? Like, what else you gonna' do during quarantine?

Forgive me for an opening paragraph that has nothing to do with the music on hand. Gotta' burn through self-imposed word count somehow when the artist leaves very little in the way of biographical info to wax the bull on. This is the fifteenth artist to take on Voyage as an alias (so sayeth Lord Discogs), with no details of who the man behind the moniker is, not even a name. Cool picture though.

Maybe it's a jolly ol' throwback to the days when d'n'b artists were all about that anonymous cred', hiding behind mysterious pseudonyms so only their music stands tall and proud. I mean, if you're gonna' make darkstep jungle that sounds as fresh as it did in the late '90s, may as well go whole hog with it. And no, that isn't a diss or a criticism. I went into Tech Itch Recordings expecting to hear tuneage in line with Technical Itch's classic menacing style, and by jove does Voyage ever deliver on that front.

Like, right off the bat. Some creepy, spacey sounds and simple tech-step rhythms warm you up in Extraterestrial, soon unleashing vicious Amen break business. Holy cow, this is just track one, and this dude's already cranked the intensity to such a threshold, it's bordering on breakcore. Follow-up track Control Blade doesn't let up, with many more coming after. Not all at once though, oh no. Voyage still finds room for some stripped-down tech-step roughness (Coma, Synchronic, Backpropagation, Immune System) and even a little stab at microfunk with GEO600 and Modified? I mean, if you want to call it that – it certainly sounds like 'minimal tech-step', so why not? Oh, and there's a hilarious attempt at injecting what I can only describe as squawking funk guitar in Dangerous Idea. Title's definitely apt there, but hey, points for trying, and the Amen bedlam elsewhere in the track is mint anyway.

But yeah, more vintage darkstep follows, and tickle me pink with how much I enjoyed Genesis. As with so many classic d'n'b genres, there's little sense in messing with what worked in the past. If Voyage is representative of the up-and-comers being featured on Tech Itch Recordings, then darkstep's future looks solid indeed.

Lowfish - Frozen & Broken

Noise Factory Records: 2008

So I went on a Suction Records mini-splurge. We have that Tangent 2002: Disco Nouveau compilation to thank for that, reinvigorating my interest in their associated artists. Turns out a couple of them, Solvent and Lowfish, had their own label going, though essentially folded by 2007. They went in different directions for a while, realized that wasn't doing much for them, so dusted off the print for a relaunch. Over a decade later and Suction Records is still going... I don't want to say 'strong', as its mostly just a half-dozen acts releasing material every couple years. They're consistent though, with enough albums available that a mini-splurge on their Bandcamp isn't difficult.

What's funny is this particular album I got from Lowfish wasn't even released on Suction Records, despite currently being available through them. Nay, this record came out on Noise Factory Records, one of the prints Mr. de Rocher went with during Suction's time in abeyance. Frozen & Broken was the last release on Noise Factory, which I'm sure helped convince Lowfish to get the old Suction team back together with Solvent.

Right, what exactly is the deal with Lowfish, then? I honestly know very little about him (especially since Lord Discogs is scant on details), having only come across his music twice in the wilderness. The second was Tangent 2002, but the first on Turbo Studio Sessions Vol. 3, featured among such 'electroclash' stars like Tiga, Chromeo, LCD Soundsystem, and Scissor Sisters. Yeah, yeah, I know, none of them are 'electroclash', but that was the thing at the time, and they all got lumped into it as that thing together, including Lowfish. He dates further back than that though, releasing vaguely electro tracks with an IDM bent. Think early Warp Records, with a heavier emphasis on Detroit lineage. After time, his tunes started going more pure electro and synth-poppy (thanks, 'electroclash'!), while never losing that pure fetishism with robotik muzik.

The album opens with Things Fall Apart, and it's the tasty electro I was expecting going in, then the titular follow-up comes on, and I'm struck by how steady this beat is. And this happens in a couple more tracks throughout (Lies, Claustrophobe) which got me wondering, gosh, what genre is this? You might think techno, but they're kinda' bouncy, bumpin', reminding me of when Vector Lovers would get his proper groove on. It's like, electro, and house, at the same time. What, electro house? No, it can't be that, whatever that was tagged 'electro house' in 2008 something vastly different than what this sounds like, this real merging of electro and house. Ah, just call it tech-house and call it a day.

Anyhow, the rest of Frozen & Broken features plenty of stripped-back electro with mechanical broken-beats and moody futurism. A couple tracks even sound sentimental (Knives gets me such feels despite the aggro bassline deployed), but nothing that will throw you for a techno-loop. Lowfish's style remained retro and unfussy, which is just how electro purists prefer it.

Part-Sub-Merged - Four Forests

fsoldigital.com: 2007

Going direct to The Future Sound Of London's website to buy their music is good and all, but what's better are the few items from other artists along with the endless side-projects and alternate aliases. Daniel Pemberton, Neotropic, Ross Baker, and so on. What better way to discover someone new, especially if they come with a FSOL seal of approval! Who to choose, though, who to choose? As is so often the case, I went with my gut instinct, wherein my gut tells me to pick out an item with cover art that somehow resonates with me (often blue). Ah, this here wintry scene of barren trees partially obscured by a frost-encrusted glen fog. Reminds me of so many ambient dronescape releases I've dabbled in. 'Part-Sub-Merged'? Never heard of 'em before, so must be proper obscure. Sounds like a worthy candidate for a blind purchase, I reckon.

The project is obscure, yes, but not the producer behind it, for Part-Sub-Merged is none other than Brian Dougans. You may know him for his early seminal acid house work as Humanoid, or being one-half of psych-rockers Amorphous Androgynous (among other, incidental things). Not that I realized it when I bought it, the digital download offering little in the way of details. It's like, they expected the only folks who'd be interested in this would have already known that FSOL made a DVD movie, and this was the musical tie-in. I didn't though. I just saw an intriguing bit of cover-art in their digital shop, and went in cold-blind. Did make me curious of what this Four Forests film looked like.

Good luck finding that. The DVD was only available through the glitch.tv website, a rather archaic domain of custom FSOL gear and whatnot. A few selected vids can be found on YouTube though, which gives a decent idea of what you're in for. Drives out to the country, wanderings about the forests, a bunch of trippy effects and layered images, all doing that abstract art thing FSOL have been known for since their earliest days. It's interesting enough if the group's visual aesthetic isn't a turnoff, in a Boards Of Canada sort of way.

And speaking of retro music making, the score for this little film is pure '70s weirdness and experimentation, with a touch of the modern production quality thrown in. I'm sure you could squeeze contemporary genre tags into some of these pieces - Slight Movement as trip-hop, Cark as... dub, I guess? Melody isn't high on Brain's mind with this though, most of these tracks short pieces of musique concrete effects most definitely better suited for visual accompaniment. Occasionally something resembling a trippy tune emerges – the creepy bleep of Second Glance, the twee mini-Moog melody of First Breath, the outright psychedelic ambience of Held - but these aren't the norm.

Nothing about Four Forests is normal though. For sure check it out if you're insatiably curious, but this remains one of FSOL's most obscure items, deservedly so.

Lars Leonhard - Erstwhile

self-release: 2016

I didn't think I'd get the chance to stress test my Leonhard Science so soon. Okay, I did – it's not like my listening/reviewing order just springs up out of nothing. For sure there would be more Lars music coming (because of the big-huge amount I got sent), but somehow I mentally blocked Erstwhile in the queue. It's like, being so razor-focused (and excited!) to cover stuff like coldwave, ancient Fax+, and Viking metal made me forget what would follow. To say nothing of what's in store after this. Plus, having done the double-dip of Dark Tales From The Woods and Deep Venture, you'd forgive me for not being quite so enthused about another Lars record so soon. I may have proved there were differences between his albums if you played them back-to-back, but I needn't a third to prove it further, do I?

Even then, I had something thematically tangible to work with. Dark Tales was quite explicit in its theme compared to Deep Venture, whereas the latter was general enough you could imagine it soundtracking either underwater exploration or solar ultra-vids. Erstwhile, however, seems to be about music existing for its own sake. Perhaps a general mood of tranquility and reflection, but nothing so definitive as many of Lars' other works. In fact, this may have been the first time Mr. Leonhard ever went so abstract, so that's at least one talking point in Erstwhile's favour. Just not one that lets me wax the bull for a given amount of self-imposed word count, especially in a music scene filled with deliberate wallpaper songcraft.

Not to turn this 'review' into another reflection on the so-called struggles of writing about music, but there isn't much here to go into depth with. I've reviewed eight of his albums up to now, so folks should be well-versed in his downtempo dub techno style, and Erstwhile doesn't do much to shake his formula up. The opening portions of the album stick to the slower tempos, with a couple steady-beat offerings towards the end (Pillow is basically prog at its BPM). A requisite piano indulgence with chirpy birds and other quaint field recordings leads us out in Freedom, properly selling you on the whole 'tranquil music for tranquil times' theme, even if the bulk of Erstwhile still features Lars' more techno take on downtempo dub.

And yes, when stacked against the other two Lars albums I've reviewed this month (!!), this one does stand out as distinct from them. It may not be so thematically concrete as Dark Tales and Deep Venture, but an album of music simply being present for reflective times remains one to hang onto. Like, how many lonesome piano pieces of been created for that very reason? Still, I won't deny being far more enthralled by Lars' muse when he's taking on specific ideas. Like night trains, or the sun, or deep forests, or stars, or... um, space, and, uh, cosmic dust... Dude's got quite a fixation on space, 'kay?

Ensiferum - Ensiferum

Spinefarm Records/Fontana: 2001/2008

We all knew this was coming, eh? It's all Blood Music's fault (Blood Music!!). While browsing the label's website for synthwave and CBL, I noticed many striking pictures of Vikings, and couldn't help but wonder what the music within sounded like. When I heard some, a quickly realized I had to hear more, more, MOAR!! Okay, not that much more, but enough for an exploratory dig based on reviews found on Sputnik Music. How novel.

Why Viking metal? I'm not really sure, to be honest. Absolutely there's a romanticism surrounding the peoples of Scandinavia, those who ventured far into lands and waters no sane human dared go. Plus, all that rich lore in their pantheon of pagan Gods, ripe for retelling and such. They also were kinda' massive pricks to their European neighbours, but eh, so was everyone else to everyone else in those times. Basically, my scant metal music indulgences typically go for the escapist, and Viking metal is definitely that, while grounded in some semblance of historical fact. This is my excuse for taking Viking metal somewhat seriously, while still snickering over things like fantasy metal.

Ensiferum was the band that got my attention, so it's only appropriate (and alphabetically fortuitous!) that we're kicking this off with their debut, self-titled album. I had zero idea what to expect going in – maybe something harking back to '80s metal like Manowar? I hadn't counted on the evolution of thrash, power, and death metal having been so thoroughly ingrained in Northern Europe, that even the Viking stuff would be doing it. Just... holy cow, all those blast beats and shredding! Not to mention raspy growl of lead singer Jari Mäenpää going on about folkish tales of Gods and men. At least, that's what the liner notes tell me, as I can barely understand him most of the time, his voice often buried under the aggressive layers of guitars. Was this just how death metal was mastered at the turn of the century?

But yeah, after an acoustic folk ditty for an intro (played on a Finnish instrument called a kantele), it's just go-go-GO after, a relentless assault of guitars, drums, epic power chords, operatic choir choruses, and it's glorious! Okay, maybe a bit on the corny side too, but only if you don't buy into the whole vibe, and Ensiferum, they win you over immediately. Just as you're acclimatizing to the ridiculous speed of their music, in comes one of those choruses celebrating honour and adventure and all that good stuff. Some songs go a little slower (Token Of Time, Treacherous Gods), others heavier (Old Man, Abandoned, Eternal Wait), including brief downturns back into acoustic folk. All is again overcome by d'at galloping metal though, right up to final song Goblin's Dance, more of a metal jig, complete with flute action. Judas Priest namedrop here.

So yeah, great first impression into this realm of Viking metal, but I didn't go on this journey for just one album's worth. Stay tuned...

Dreamfish - Dreamfish

Fax +49-69/450464/Avatar Records: 1993/2001

So I got one of the O.G. collaboration albums from the Fax+ discography! Okay, not the O.G. version, as that one goes for stupid amounts of money now on the Discogs Market. Ah, then it must be the Rising High Records one, since this features the classic psychedelic fish artwork used. Nope. Gosh, one of the two Ambient World re-issues then? Not those either, fam'.

No, this comes care of Avatar Records, an Israeli psy trance outfit known for many Asia 2001 and Goa Gil releases. I've absolutely no idea how they nabbed the rights to this record – I didn't spot any other Fax+ or Rising High items – but hey, brand new, hard copy version of Dreamfish, now in my hands. That's a score no matter the circumstances.

Still, it wasn't an instant purchase, part of me wondering if I even needed this album. I already have two of the four tracks off here - School Of Fish and Fishology - and if general discourse is to be believed, those are the highlights. For sure I buy that of School Of Fish, its long dreamy soundscapes of shimmery acid and flowing synth washes a perfect melding of minds between the likes of Mixmaster Morris and Pete Namlook. Meanwhile, Fishology's weirdo environment is definitely on a more playful tip, with soft, jazzy rhythms accompanied by bouncy bleep-techno goofiness, all the while a groovy bassline and froggy electronics ride things out. I know this piece has its detractors, that it's not 'serious music' from the Fax+ camps, but for a label known for getting a tad too po-faced on occasion, it's nice to hear some lighthearted fun out of there too.

That just leaves Hymn and Under Water. The latter is the album's closer, and at fifteen minutes sounds mostly like a Mixmaster Morris joint, with his vintage ultra-dubby, tripped-out manipulations of orchestral strings and such into hypnotic dronescapes. Pure headspace stuff, quite indulgent, but also suitable for proper chill-room environments, such as they still existed in the early '90s when this was made. As for Hymn... hmm, is this ever the odd man out.

At nearly twenty-eight minutes in length, you probably think this a super-noodly Fax+ session, but with a bunch of Mixmaster Morris weirdness thrown in. Not so, going more for that ancient trance songcraft of simple, hypnotic synth leads and spacey pad work, though remaining beatless throughout, and just keeps going on and on, long after many natural end-points pass on by. Stylistically, it isn't much removed from what Namlook and Morris were doing before establishing their critically-hailed directions, thus less distinctive compared to the other pieces on Dreamfish. It doesn't even mesh with the overall tone of the album, as though Hymn was a separate jam before they went into this session with a clearer theme in mind. It's fine for what it is, but yeah, I'll still take School Of Fish and Fishology over it any day. Combined, they're shorter too.