Sphäre Sechs - Particle Void

Cryo Chamber: 2018

Seems I'm once again on a little space theme run with the current clutch of reviews, which wouldn't be complete without the good ol' dark ambient contingent cropping up for their say. You can't talk space music without bringing up the potential bleakness of it all. Yeah, it's nice to be awestruck by nebulae beauty and mesmerized by astrophysics ballet, but there's a whole lot of nothing out there too. Empty, soul-crushing desolation, wondrous worlds impossibly far and distant, such that there's no hope of ever seeing them up close and personal. Never mind even attempting to get there would involve navigating among molecule-shredding radiation and Cthulhu knows what in the form of exotica erupting from mega death black holes. No hope, no hope at all.

Sphäre Sechs is the work of two chaps, Martin Stürtzer and Christian Stritzel (sounds like a German comedy duo). Martin has been quite active in dark ambient circles for a decade and a half now, primarily releasing material under the alias of Phelios. Much of it is of the droning sort, with occasional modern classical flourishes here and there, of various themes and ideas explored. More recently he's been releasing material under his own name under his own Echo Elberfeld label. Ooh, I spy something called The Omarion Nebula (only DS9 dorks will get that).

Mr. Stritzel has far less Discoggian presence, only appearing in collaboration with Mr. Stürtzer, a modified Theremin his primary 'instrument' in the group. The duo goes as far back as 2007's Klang Ist Ewig, but half a decade later, they adopted the Sphäre Sechs project handle, releasing Tiefschlaf on Malignant Records. Fast forward a little later, and they've brought their cosmic soundscapes to Cryo Chamber, debuting on the label with this here Particle Void. Tale as old as time.

As an album, Particle Void is straight-forward enough. Eight tracks, most hovering in the five-to-six minute range, offering varying tones of drone while holding a general mood of cosmic emptiness. While a low thrum is maintained throughout each piece, droning sounds and pads ebb and flow as though in a trance-inducing meditative breath. Sometimes there's a sense of awe in the surroundings, as in Multiverse and Transference. Other times abject fear, as though bearing witness to it all is simply too much for the human brain to handle (Temporal Transition, Achernar). And gosh, is that a touch of the melancholy I hear in Cepheid? Sadness at forever being trapped in our corporeal forms, unable to traverse into theoretical inter-dimensional portals without our atoms getting speghettified across the cosmos? Or maybe that's what's going on in final track Radiation Phase, a slowly building drone piece that includes the subtlest of rhythmic pulses.

By the way, where's the Theremin? I don't hear anything on this album that reminds me of pulpy sci-fi of the '50s. Is Christian's manipulations of the quirky electronic instrument so extreme that it sound alien to that which we know? Seems about right for an album like this.

Vector Lovers - Pale Blue Star EP

self-released: 2017

Martin Wheeler is... back? Wait, when did that happen? I saw no big promotion for new singles, not even drive-by blurbs when I was diving into Soma Quality Recordings a couple years ago. Then again, it's not like his iPhonica album got a tonne of attention either. Indeed, I only knew he'd released that record when I was browsing about the Vector Lovers Discogs page. So it was again, with his latest album – or rather, soundtrack – but I'll get to that in due time. What I discovered, however, is it was self-released, which naturally led me to give a slap of the head, realizing in all this time, I never bothered to check if there was a Vector Lovers Bandcamp page.

There certainly is, and it looks like Mr. Wheeler's kept himself active even if Soma or any label isn't supporting his stuff anymore. Not super-busy or anything, about an EP a year since iPhonica, but it's enough to keep the Vector Lovers name out there for those who can't get enough of that sentimental electro stylee. If he's even still doing that. When I looked at some of these singles, I couldn't help but wonder if he's moved on from the anime influences and into more proper sci-fi, and maybe even some synthwave. While the Vector Lovers sound was never exactly '80s retro, it wouldn't take much to make that leap, should Martin fancy himself such a step.

So Pale Blue Star is the first EP I'm digging into here. And yes, it's 'pale blue star', not 'dot'. I know you keep seeing 'dot' in that title, keep hearing 'dot' in your mind (probably in a Carl Sagan voice) but your brain is lying to you. For one thing, that dot you see in the cover art is actually the sun as seen from the surface of Mars. As for the blue, that has to do with the Red Planet's thin atmosphere, where- ah, whoops, getting all astronomy geeky in here again. Just remember that it's 'pale blue star' in the title, not 'dot'.

As for the music, it's definitely more upbeat than a lot of Vector Lovers' album orientated tunes, but then his EPs have typically been aimed for the dancefloor. Not that the titular opener will have you bustin' your sickest moves or anything, an incredibly atmospheric slice of... prog, I guess? I'd technically call this EP a tech-house one, but man, if Pale Blue Star doesn't have you floating out among the stars (or dusty alien skies), I really don't know what else to say? There is a slight undercurrent of post-apocalyptic desolation here, rather like the vibe of his Afterglow album (or Boards Of Canada's Tomorrow's Harvest, if you must), but in that traditional, melancholic Vector Lovers way.

The remaining tracks play out in similar fashion, with Alphaville switching things up with a broken beat, and Android Nightlife getting more on that robo-boogie vibe. Good stuff, all round.

Lars Leonhard - Orange Dawn

self-release: 2016

I know, I know. No, really, I know! “Lars Leonhard again!?” you cry, but c'mon, it's been a whole two months since we last saw the dub techno producer 'round these here parts. That should be plenty of time for his sound to drift from your memory membranes for another dive into the his spacious downtempo delights. And lo', I do believe this is the last of his solo albums within my collection. He has released another four since I was sent this big ol' bundle of CDs, but yeah, even I admit I'm quite well sated on his music for the time being. Maybe in another half-decade, I'll dive back in to catch up.

Of all the post-BineMusic records Lars released, this one always caught my eye. How could it not, what with its fiery fibre-optics glowing like, well, the self-explanatory title? Such cover-art alone is usually enough to entice me with a blind purchase, so Orange Dawn likely would have ended up in my grasp one way or another. Maybe shortly after I got Interstellar. Having gotten it the way I did though, it put this album in a completely different perspective, in that in the former method I wouldn't have already consumed so much of Mr. Leonhard's other releases to the point they started blending together. Does Orange Dawn have much hope of standing out from the crowd now?

The track Aurora sure does, in that I swear I've heard this slice of dubby space techno somewhere before. No, not one of those N.A.S.A. videos of our star in action, though given the general theme of Orange Dawn has much to do with the effects of solar light upon our orbiting rock, I'm surprised this album hasn't been tapped for such soundtrack consideration. Then again, he was commissioned for an proper full soundtrack of a recent film (Solar Observer for A Decade Of Sun), so perhaps it's a moot point. Maybe a fan-film of Sol, then? Where was I? Oh yeah, Aurora. Like I said, I swear I've heard this slice of dubby space techno somewhere before, but Lord Discogs claims Orange Dawn is its lone home. Maybe it reminds me of another Lars track from another album.

Anyhow, this does most of the things I've come to expect of a Lars album. The dubbed-out synth tones, the thick rhythms, the warm textures contrasting with the sharp sounds. Some tracks provide a steady techno pulse, while others a languid downtempo groove. The final track Polar Night is almost an entirely ambient affair (if you don't count soft background patters and gentle arps as 'rhythm'), and at over ten minutes in length, among the longest tracks Lars has ever released.

No, seriously! His average track length is usually in the six-to-eight minute range, and Lars is astoundingly consistent in this, almost never breaking double-digits. While I doubt he has much inclination to do an LP-length dronescape, it would be interesting to hear him indulge 'beyond the ten' more often.

Ocelot - One

Avatar Records: 2009

I remember seeing Ocelot's name getting dropped in topics of 'good modern psy trance' way back in the genre's mid-'00s resurgence. Keeping the alias in the back of my mind, I figured he'd be one to check out should I ever dig a little deeper into that scene, but got side-tracked by things and stuff. Or just a general disinterest in how the music was developing as the decade turned. Fast-forward many years later, and I'm browsing the Avatar Music Bandcamp, wherein I spot an Ocelot album among their offerings. Hey, I remember seeing that name dropped as one to check out, should the opportunity present itself. May as well check this one out.

So I throw on One, and I'm digging what I'm hearing, as solid outing of psy dub and prog-psy as you could expect to hear in the year 2009. “Ah,” thinks I, “Ocelot must have come up when discussions of artists similar to Shpongle and Ott were aplenty throughout the interweblands. I remember good!”

Except I was completely wrong. After playing One, I listened to Ocelot's other works, and turns out he mostly peddled his wares in a totally different sub-genre of psy-trance, the dark psy continuum. Oh, now I remember, his name floating on the periphery of my attention when I indulged in Trishula Records for a spell. Dear me, if my memories were so easily led astray in this trivial matter, what else I might have incorrect recollections of.

Anyhow, this is a darn good album, better than I was expected, even if I didn't really know what to expect going in. For sure I instantly knew this would be on the chillier side of psy, a gentle, melodic ambient opener in Drifting Away reminding me of ancient Irresistible Force as sure a sign as anything. I was then mighty impressed by how effortlessly Ocelot rode those prog-psy grooves with floaty, trancey melodies and tasteful world-beat indulgences. The throbbing pulse of Cloud Cover, the bouncy beat of Rainbow Colors, the stuttery synth hook in Molasses, even the manipulated baby laughs in Chunocelot Soup. Such a silly idea almost never works in psy, but Ocelot somehow makes it work such that I'm effortlessly vibing on it seven minutes in (only four more to go!). And all this from a dark psy guy? Who'd have thought it? I mean, anyone who knows psy trance producers have a downtempo bug in them would know, but play this along side VectorSelector, and you'd never believe it's the same chap.

How could I not assume the thing I assumed from the outset, then? One could have easily fit in with the young Alter Records along with the likes of AstroPilot. Oh, wait, AstroPilot made his debut on Avatar Records, a couple years before Ocelot released this on Avatar Records. Does this all tie together? Heh, no, just an interesting coincidence, but if the AP association helps selling One as a record to check out, so be it.

Atomine Elektrine - Nebulous (Expanded Edition)

Essence Music/Old Europa Cafe: 2007/2016

I came into contact with raison d'être because I saw a reissue of one of his albums with an aged picture of a boat on the cover. I dug a little deeper into his other works because I liked what I heard and wanted to hear more. Exploring through the Old Europa Cafe Bandcamp pointed me to an assortment of other items that caught my eye by an Atomine Elektrine. 'Cool,' thinks I, 'a chance to branch out into another untapped vein of dark ambient producers.' Turns out, nope, that's not the case at all, as this is a side project of Peter Andersson, whom I've already name-dropped in this paragraph as raison d'être. You'd think I'd pay more attention to these sorts of things, especially if I write about them in older reviews.

Best I can tell, Atomine Elektrine was Peter's outlet for music that skewed closer to the realms of techno. I don't know so much about his first album under the guise, Elemental Severance, the scant clips I've heard coming off like so many Enigma clones of the time. Still, kinda' interesting that it appeared on the fledgling Cold Meat Industry. He self-released a couple more items before the end of the century, then seemingly put the project into mothballs.

Nearly a decade later though, he dusted Atomine Elektrine off for a new album on Essence Music, the very record I'm talking about here! He's kept it active ever since, releasing a new record every few years, all the while coupling some of his older works with expanded editions filled with unreleased material. Man, I know some artists cultivate quite the dedicated followings, but are there really that many die-hard raison d'être fans who'd indulge in double-disc collections of side-projects? Yes, yes there is. I'm assuming they're also the sort who have every noise Merzbow's released.

Anyhow, Nebulous. Atomine Elektrine has often taken to the cosmic grande for inspiration, and this album's no exception. Track titles include such items like Transforming Space, The Eye Of The Nebula, Deep Sky Twilight, and, on this expanded edition, Plasma Core Of The Quasar. The music, such as it is, mostly amounts to experimental drone pieces with hazy melody drifting among the interstellar medium. Some of it, such as where the dronescapes are richly layered into something more dubby, is quite nice as it plays, though doesn't really stick much to the memory membranes after. It all rather reminds me of Biosphere at his more minimalist, though even colder in a space station laboratory sort of way. I want to like this more, but coupled with the second CD of live recordings, it all feels like too much to take in all at once.

Speaking of, CD2 of this reissue does have some nice little ambient numbers on offer, a surprise considering the dark ambient Mr. Andersson typically peddles in. If you like your bleepy, Forbidden Planet soundscapes, there's some cool stuff here. Bet the visuals were dope too.

ACE TRACKS: September 2020

Time for another round of Sykonee Vs The Work Radio. Today's case study features what happens when being transferred to a brand new location with the station defaulted to the most modern music you can play for a clientele of all ages, but secretly wanting that younger, affluent demographic. Logic dictates it'll be pop music, with a heavy favouritism towards timeless hits of the '80s and '90s, but that's old people music now. You need something that connects with millennials, and hoo boy, do they love 'em some Marshmello. Or so whomever is in charge of curating these work radio playlists assumes.

That wouldn't be the worst of it though. Oh no, our mysterious taste-maker knows we can't subsist on a steady diet of Marshmello forever. There's just too much nutritious '80s and '90s pop to ignore, but we can't have the originals playing - it'd make Marshmello sound bad. Somehow, then, our faceless music merchant has found modern covers of all the old hits, and by modern, I mean tropical house remixes, with the occasional Ed Sheeran-style acoustic ditty thrown in. I'm honestly more flabbergasted and even a touch bemused by the fact there exists such an extensive library of this music now, enough to fill a contemporary pop playlist.

Needless to say, this stuff was rapidly annoying as all hell, but fortunately, I got my hands on the music feed (re: was asked to install some additional wiring, because I'm apparently The Guy who knows how to do such things). And while I couldn't change the music selection (don't have that authority), I did adjust all the volumes so it wasn't so blaring in the areas that it mattered. Where I can play my own stuff on my own portable speakers, away from discerning ears. Oh yes, there's a party in the Sykonee work corner! Even playing music as found in September's collection of ACE TRACKS!


Full track list here.


MISSING ALBUMS:
RX-101 - Like Yesterday
Buttertones - Midnight In A Moonless Dream

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 0%
Percentage Of Rock: 36%
Most “WTF?” Track: Sunscreem - Love U More, just for *that* lyric.

Is this the highest percentage of rock music we've ever had in one of these playlists? Maybe when I did that Neil Young boxset, there was more, or perhaps when I took on a sizeable chunk of Ishkur's CD collection from his angsty rock teenage years. Aside from that though, yes, I do believe it is. And how could it not, what with two offerings of Viking metal and two offerings of surf rock. Heck, could have been three of the latter, if the band hadn't deep-sixed their prospects with awful behaviour.

Ralf Hildenbeutel - Moods

Rebecca & Nathan: 2015

I've said it in the past, but it never hurts to say it again: Ralf Hildenbeutel was easily the soul of Harthouse and Eye Q. Many classic releases from the label's early years bear his musical imprint, a modern classical touch to spaced-out trance records. He was mostly a collaborator though, seldom doing much solo, and as such didn't get nearly the same amount of praise as others on the Harthouse roster. And when he did release an album or two under his own name, they were so far off the expectant path of a 'trance label', I'm not surprised few spoke of them. Well, maybe not Looking Beyond, coming out on the ambient sub-label Recycle Or Die. The modern classical Hommage À Noir on Eye Q though? Heaven forbid!

After Väth's label folded, Ralf essentially parted ways with Sven but continued doing production work for other artists and film scores. He eventually started his own label, Rebecca & Nathan, to release his own material again, which is where we find Mr. Hildenbeutel with Moods, his third album since.

So a modern classical album from one of trance music's earliest producers. I honestly should have expected this – it's not like Ralf has been tearing up clubland since the '90s. Some reason I couldn't shake the assumption that maybe, just maybe, he'd lean more into the electronic side of things. The William Orbit path, if you will. I certainly wasn't expecting something closer to the Harold Budd domain, with gentle pianos all about. Misty opens with a fair amount of reverb and echo on them ivories, a soft electro pitter-patter underneath. Beyond is more in mind of what Moods has in store, with additional cello and violin action, firmly placing things in the modern classical camps despite the sparse synths used in support. Elsewhere, Lucid switches things up a little with acoustic guitar, while Lost goes a little more abstract in its production. It's all quite lovely stuff, soft emotional weight in these pieces. It's just a shame so many of them are rather short, befitting more of arts showcases than sit-at-home listening.

Speaking of, let's talk about the two pieces that you may have heard off here, as they had videos done for them, and are quite out of sorts with the rest of Moods. Disco is a pure electronic outing, with percolating synths ebbing and flowing about. A simple idea, though the rotoscope video is pretty cool. Spark, on the other hand, lulls you in with an orchestral cue, then erupts with crunchy, glitchy beats, bleepy electronics, and symphonic swells. It's totally an odd man out, a bizarrely aggressive tune for such a generally tranquil album. I do not recommend trying to fall asleep to Moods because of it, as Spark will rudely knock you out of whatever daydream you happen to be enjoying. More of Ease please, with its side-chained rhythmic throb. Reminds me of good ol' Asura, that one does.

Bonobo - Migration

Ninja Tune: 2017

So I've started up a Bonobo collection, and you think, “wat? You haven't yet?” Respected melting-pot artist on a label I've long been a fan of, plus a permanent presence on the local festival circuit: seems a shoe-in for my interests. Two things kept me from properly diving in though, one of which is totally stupid. For the longest time (about a decade now?), I kept thinking this was the Bonobo as appearing on Jimmy Van M's Balance. Which shouldn't be a problem since I liked that Bonobo, so why wouldn't I like this one even if it was a case of mistaken identity? Dashed expectations, most likely, which leads me into my second factor: the unbelievable hype over this guy from certain segments of the electronic music community.

You know the type – let's call them the Four Tet fan. Maybe not so insufferable as the Nicolas Jaar fan, but certainly as agreeable as the Flying Lotus fan. The sort who declare jazzy-influenced producers geniuses for throwing all manner of instrumentation into their works. Not that Ninja Tune hasn't had such artists on its roster before, but for some reason, Bonobo got all the love from hippies (especially urban hippies). And while the music can be perfectly fine and lovely, there's a reflex action of mine where the 'dumb music is fun' portion of my brain (the part that likes German trance) side-eyes such pretentious adoration. How can it be that good, it asks, if it doesn't sound like my favourite stuff? Brains are stupid sometimes.

I wonder if my brain is still fighting this conflict, even as I listen to Bonobo's latest album, Migration. I like what I hear, but I don't love it, yet I feel I should love it. Some tracks, such as the pure dancefloor outings like Outlier, Bambro Koyo Ganda, and 7th Sevens, I enjoy immensely, thanks to that good ol' reptilian portion of my grey matter needing nothing more than a solid beat, a hooky hook, and a charming chant to release the happy chemicals. Gosh though, did the rhythm in Outlier need to be so cluttered? And whoops, there goes my brain goes again, over-complicating things.

That's what it feels like listening through Migration, wherein I'll vibe to a particular track, but a nagging nancy keeps asking “is all this sound really necessary?” The more stripped back Bonobo goes, as in the shimmery sunshine-soul on Surface or subdued trip-hop of Break Apart, the better he is for it. Other tracks, like the titular opener and Ontario, opt for the gradual build into crescendo climax school of songcraft, and I can't help but think them just a tad overwrought in the process. Especially Ontario, which feels like it should be the capper on the album, but three more tracks follow.

Maybe Migration just isn't the right entry point into Bonobo's discography. Fortunately, I never buy just one album of an artist, so this won't be the last we'll see of him here.

Buttertones - Midnight In A Moonless Dream

Innovative Leisure Records: 2018

There's no dodging this, so I'll just get it out of the way: as of two months ago, this band was #metoo'd. Not all the members, just a couple, being outed as womanizing creeps, one in particular having a preference for those who weren't even legal age of consent. I only found out about this as I started my preliminary research right after my last review. I never knew about this when I got this album over a year ago. Almost no one knew, the allegations and confirmed shared stories getting aired out just this summer. The fall of Buttertones was swift and complete, however, their social media presence utterly scrubbed from the internet, their label dropping them like a ten tonne rock, the remaining band members forced to scuttle the project. A token 'all future album purchases goes towards women help charities' is the only thing keeping their Bandcamp page afloat.

Obviously, that puts a huge damper on whatever thoughts and opinions I had going into Midnight In A Moonless Dream. All the mental notes I'd gathered seem inconsequential and pointless now. Talking about how my explorations of 'surf rock' bands straying so far off the beaten path, that I'm listening to a band that sounds more like a cabaret quintet than a group for beach bums. Wow, what a wonderful discovery (thanks, Bandcamp newsletter)! What does that matter when it's giving abusive assholes attention though? The music's great, fantastic even, but I feel ultra-icky praising it.

The ol' 'separating art from artist' topic naturally comes up, which everyone has their own take on. While some are absolute in their perspectives, I'm a little more flexible, in a 'time plus distance' sort of way. The further you get from certain art being created during which its artist was being an asshole, the easier it is to separate the two, especially if said artist no longer benefits from the art they created (dying helps). Again, this is no hard or fast rule, but it does allow me to enjoy things like Michael Jackson's Thriller or the symphonic suites of Koichi Sugiyama with peace of mind. Some things are almost impossible to let go though, like watching a Chris Benoit wrestling match – no matter how 'lost in the moment' I can get with bouts two decades old, that knowledge of him murder-suiciding his family forever looms overhead.

I honestly feel fortunate that the bulk of my musical interests haven't been revealed as individuals deserving of cancellation, selfish though that sounds. I'm sure there are a few with skeletons in their closet that could still be unearthed, but hopefully nothing to the extent as has been going on with other producers in recent years, especially in the local festival scene. Buttertones? No great loss on my part, as they were a band I only came across by happenstance. I may be able to play this album again with time and distance, but as of now... yeah.

Sunscreem - O₃

Columbia: 1993

(a Patreon request from Philoi)

Sunscreem pretty much marked the end of the first 'rave band' era of UK acid house. Y'know, when all those musicians would form groups making loved-up clubbing tunes you could as easily hear on Top Of The Pops as at the illegal barn party. Sunscreem wasn't a rock band per se, but they had all the accoutrements of a rock band: guitar, bass guitar, drums, singer, and keyboardist. Just a lot more emphasis on the keyboard guy, laying out those synth leads and piano licks and backing pads.

After Sunscreem though, successful 'rave bands' all but vanished. You might get a guitarist with the keyboard guy, but seldom the full ensemble. Meanwhile, most who tried carrying on past 1993 generally crumbled with their follow-ups, Sunscreem no less a victim, though that has as much to do with label bungling as it does with sounding dated in a few short years.

Said label bungling must be the reason we never see a reissue or remaster of this record. O₃ has five singles to its name, nearly all of them charting in some way. Several somehow hit the top spot on US dance charts, rubbing shoulders with the likes of Madonna, the Jackson siblings, and Whitney Houston. You'd think such prestige would place Sunscreem among the greatest rave-dance-house acts of all time, but no, all folks remember of them now is as a flash-in-the-pan success, plus a respectful nod from Sasha & Diggers. Even their biggest hits aren't brought out for regular trend-whoring remixes, as though Sony is indignant at keeping the master tapes all to themselves.

O₃ could use a remaster though, some parts of it definitely showing its age, mostly on the rhythmic end. Whenever I hear ol' skool breakbeats as heard on tracks like Portal, Perfect Motion, and Chasing Dreams, I can't help but compare to what Liam Howlett was doing and think, hm, yeah, these need more beef. They aren't important though, merely transitional tunes for the big songs with Lucia Holm bellowing her lungs out. Okay, Your Hands gets a pass for its proggy Balearic charms.

But yes, the highlights of O₃ are tunes like Pressure, Love U More (controversial rape lyric notwithstanding), Idaho, Walk On, and Broken English. Man, especially Idaho and Broken English, Sunscreem building and building those songs to eruptive peaks despite rather humdrum starts. Heck, the whole album plays out like that, with Release Me serving as a triumphant reprise of the earlier Pressure, encouraging that full play-through. Shame they tacked on one more piano anthem track after, diluting such a strong conclusion.

A classic album, then? Eh, not quite, if I'm honest. Despite showing plenty of personality in their singles, the surrounding tracks are treading well-worn anthem house tropes, such that you couldn't pick them out of a pile without Ms. Holm there. Given more time and evolution, Sunscreem could have grown into a real player in the 'electronica' era, but sadly, such was not the case.