Clementz - Kretsløp

Suntrip Records: 2020

Goa was dead: to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. Some moved onto harder sounds with psy trance, others emerged with cross-over friendly, full-on vibes. A few brought back melodic elements with prog-psy, even if it meant slowing the pace down a dozen BPM. For all intents though, the original genre as exported from the shores of India had had its day in the acid-drenched sun, electronic music's constant desire for evolution relegating it to the dustbin of history. You will therefore permit me to reiterate emphatically, that Goa was as dead as a door-nail.

But like any comic book character not named Uncle Ben or Thomas and Martha Wayne, no genre stays dead. Even if a potential audience has dwindled to bupkis, at least that audience exists. Such must have been the logic of Suntrip Records, a little Belgian print eager to resurrect goa trance even if the scene had long moved on. They even scored an early 'hit' in Khetzal's Corolle, proving interest was there for vintage goa, should anyone take a chance on it. Just dress it up in some new hotness tag for all to see, something cutting edge and hip to the kids. Got it! Neo-Goa!

Despite this new-old genre never taking off in any significant way, it persisted in the periphery of the psy scene, Suntrip Records continuously plugging along to this day. Which leads us to one of the label's more recent offerings in Clementz' Kretsløp, an album I picked up because I wanted something new out of PsyShop, and this one had the blueist cover art available.

One Hans Henrik Clementz to the Norwegian database, the chap's been making music on Soundcloud for many years now, having tunes appear on a number of compilations like The 50th Parallel, 303 Syndroms, Colors Of Goa V.3, Goa Trance Revolution 2 (Retrofuturism), and Dimensional Gateway 4 (Veil Of The Moon). His hustle finally paid off, landing a debut album with Suntrip Records consolidating a bunch of his tracks, bringing his brand of goa to more ears than ever. Well, as far as the Suntrip faithful at least.

And if you're still doubting that anyone modern could possibly sound properly retro, opening track Æ-Re-Stu immediately drops you back to the '90s. Those unmistakable Nord Lead synths powering forward, a dooc-dooc bass kick and acid squelches in support... oh man, it's 1997 again, and I've just picked up Distance To Goa 5! I don't know whether Clementz is using authentic gear or really good emulators, but you can easily imagine hearing this stuff alongside classic Prana and Astral Projection. Some tracks stick to proper goa (Inner Core, Distorted Angel, Outside This World), others go heavier on the psychedelic side of things (Big Rip, Easter Hymn, Voices Of Helium), but all remain unwavering in their dedication to sounding exactly like the days of yore'. Whether this is 'dope' or 'bunk' to you depends entirely on your feelings about that era of psy trance.

Speedy J - Krekc

NovaMute: 2001/2021

Aww yeah, finally returning to Loudboxer-era Speedy J. Enough with the early forays into Detroit techno, or the critically heralded indulgences into 'intelligent dance', let's get back to the years when Mr. Paap stopped giving a fuck and simply ripped shit up. On the dancefloor, I mean. And what better track to get us back to the relentless bangin' techno than the single that not only led into Loudboxer, but kicked off the album's pummelling second half, Krekc.

What else needs to be said about it? It's straight-forward bass kicks and rumbling bassline for a solid ninety seconds, hi-hats, snares, and other assorted percussion building in layers, occasionally ebbing so other propulsive noises squall in the background. It's positively unyielding, letting the energy climax out with barely a sputter at the end for the quick mix-out. It's a track intended for 4am techno, played at the peak of a set. No, seriously, even in the year 2001, there weren't many tunes that went as hard as this one did. Or at least, not released by as Very Important person in the world of techno as Speedy J was at the time.

I do still wonder how folks took this turn of events. I first heard Loudboxer when it was new, and it was certainly something of a shock, having only been familiar with Jochem's G-Spot era of music making. I missed out on the two albums between, to say nothing of any singles floating about, but even stuff like Electric Deluxe couldn't have prepared folks for just how hard Krekc would go. Like many genres out in clubland though, bangin' techno was seeing something of an arms race in the early '00s, where the need to go bigger and bolder was necessary to remain king of the heap. Then everyone got old, knees weary, ketamine the preferred drug of choice, and we all know what happened to techno after that.

Anyhow, another track on this single that appeared on Loudboxer is Krikc, if only partially. This was the tune that was featured as a live snippet, and quite frankly cemented the album as the propah' warehouse experience it was being sold as. Nothing like a little crowd whooping and cheering to sell that 'in the moment' vibe, amirite? This track is even more bonkers than Krekc, basically all looping percussion and flange effects, with heavy emphasis on those mid-range snares as the bass drum thrums along. By comparison, third track Krakc is almost quaint, much slower in tempo, and rather deliberate in how it progresses in layering it's various loops. Even if it's at a pace more typical of traditional minimal techno, there's still plenty of crunchy sounds and flange effects in making this a worthy companion piece to the high-octane Krekc and Krikc.

So there you have it: Krekc, Krikc, Krakc, three tunes of- Wait a moment... are the titles of these tracks a Dutch play on Rice Krispies onomatopoeia...?

Solipsism - Kismet

Carpe Sonum Records: 2018

So now Solipsism. Ever since I took a dive into the extended Lee Norris Ambientverse, this is a name that's floated about my periphery. Like, it's hard not to notice an alias that reminds me of some of the more tedious discussions I engaged in during university philosophy courses. Not to mention simply being a word that would leave one drenched should it be uttered by Sylvester The Cat.

Seriously though, the Craig Murphy project has existed for nearly two decades now, spending much of the '00s releasing several digital-only items on labels like Herb Recordings and Ambidextrous Records (no relation to the artist Ambidextrous). He finally landed a CD roll-out debuting on Mr. Norris' ...txt print, and the two went on to collaborate on a few more albums, sometimes as their separate aliases (Nacht Plank in Lee's case), or as a totally unique project called Ashtoreth's Gate. Hmm, name sounds dark ambientish, that one. May need to investigate further.

Anyhow, Solipsism is a project that I probably would check out proper-like at some point, should the right record entice me further. And leave it to Carpe Sonum Records to publish that CD, Kismet luring me in with yet another striking bit of geometric architecture. The blue-hued cover art didn't hurt either. As for how Mr. Murphy got his stab at a Carpe Sonum outing at all, well hey, it's right there in the title, is it not? Also, Kismet isn't actually an album, but a compilation of several previous works released under the Solipsism banner, some reaching as far back as 2008. I admit I didn't know this going in, but hey, makes for a handy sampler of his music now, and Carpe Sonum has often proven capable of weaving an artist's back catalogue into their own flowing LPs.

Even though I'm fairly certain Solipsism is an ambient artist, I wasn't sure what brand of ambient I might be in for. Considering he's worked with Nacht Plank, I was expecting a few dalliances into the more experimental side of the genre, and sure enough, a few tracks go there. Beachcomber starts out with some nice, subtle tone, but gets rather distorted towards the end. It's not nearly as annoying as The Space Between Atoms though, which doesn't waste much time before piercing your ears with quite grating noise between musique concrete transistor twerps. A shame, because the rest of that track does feature some nice, soothing passages of opulent synth drone.

Those are the only two egregious examples though, and are nicely spaced apart so it doesn't detract from Kismet's whole. Rather, the album-compilation opens with a nice, fuzzy bit of piano 'n' synth ambient in Toking Elders In Avalanche, gives us a taste of the mysterious warble-reverb in Maighdean na Tuinne, slows the pace down to contemplative reflection with Stargazer and Planes Of Existence (with extra sub-bass drone!), while Forgotten and Escape Pod takes us out in ambient grace. Yep, I'd say that covers about everything in Solipsism's oeuvre.

Jet Chamber - Jet Chamber II

Fax +49-69/450464: 1996

Where to even begin with Uwe Schmidt? He gained some minor fame after making an album of Latin-fused electro-pop covers of Kraftwerk songs, but the man had a solid decade of music making behind him before that. Those more in the techno-know were undoubtedly familiar with Atom Heart, if for no other reason than it was the alias Uwe most commonly goes with for his multitudes of projects and collaborations. And though he jumped about many labels throughout the '90s, he often came back to Fax+ for an album or three, even teaming up with Pete Namlook on occasion. In fact, some of the print's earliest records were a pairing of these two, cranking out bangin' Belgian techno as Subsquence and Synthadelic. Um, no one really talks about these anymore. That Jet Chamber project though, that's the stuff!

Five albums were released under this banner, remarkably unique from one another, misters Schmidt and Kuhlmann clearly unafraid in exploring different sounds with each outing. Yeah, you could say that about a lot of their works, but even with the numerous musicians Namlook paired up with, there always was a bit of consistency in how each one sounded. Not so with Jet Chamber. Say you liked the vintage ambient techno of the first album, but are you prepared for the pure jazz dalliance of the fourth record? Or rather preferred the dubbier, trip-hoppier vibes of the third LP, but not so much the micro-beats of the fifth? Which to choose, which to choose?

Clearly, I went with Jet Chamber II, and not just because it was the one I saw available for a reasonable penny from a Discogs seller. No, I've often noticed it crop up in a fair number of 'Essential Fax+ Albums' lists, so figured it a solid get regardless. And right from the jump in Inner Rotation, you can hear you're in for something outside the Fax+ norm. Well, at least what I'm used to hearing from this label, but then I haven't deep-dove into the entire catalogue – few ever have.

Anyhow, Inner Rotation drops us right into Atom™'s brand of electro-IDM beatcraft, leading us along for a good five minutes before Namlook's vintage space-synths join the fray. It's honestly rather typical of Pete's many pairings, his partner laying out their distinct approach to rhythms while he handles the melodic portions. What makes Inner Rotation stand out so much more is just how fluid it is, forever morphing and ever changing even at a lengthy eighteen minutes. Like liquid chrome constantly burbling, bleeping and blooping.

It's also the requisite 'clubby' track of the three, followed upon by the requisite 'pure ambient' outing of minimalist Calm Box. Can't be a classic Fax+ album without one of those, nor a half-hour long jam session, closer Outer Rotation serving as such. It mostly consolidates the first two tracks' ideas, which is fine if you want to hear more of those electro-IDM beats, but I prefer the 'concise' songcraft of Inner Rotation.

FSOL - ISDN

Virgin: 1995

You'd think I'd have gotten this in my initial gathering of FSOL albums, a necessary companion to Lifeforms and Dead Cities. A few things kept me from doing so though, a primary factor being I wasn't sure this was even an album. Compared to Ziggy Riphead's striking, CGI artwork from this period in Future Sound Of London's timeline, ISDN is flat, drab, and nondescript. Which hey, is an artistic statement in of itself, plus you'd find plenty weirdo visual-scapes within the booklet if you really needed them.

Still, this record had something of a rep, in that even for a FSOL LP, ISDN was way out there. Wherein Brian and Garry, uninhibited by such limitations as 'performance' and 'audience expectation', could transmit their muses directly into your living rooms. Oh honeys, you hadn't heard anything yet. Just wait until you get a load of this thing called 'live streaming'!

That all said, an appreciation of Brain and Garry's numerous Environment outings finally got me to properly grab ISDN. Okay, reconnecting with a few tunes like Slider, Amoeba and A Study Of Six Guitars didn't hurt in nudging me either. Whether this was some over-indulgent live show broadcast over a fledgling internet, or an assemblage of studio wankery, it was hard to deny at least a handful of dope-ass tunes emerged from these sessions. Surely there were more than what I plucked out of ancient P2P programs.

Confounding the “is this a live album or not?” vibe of ISDN is opener Just A Fucking Idiot, sampling live audio from a Joy Division/New Order. From there, the track's pure future-shock territory, so *deep breath* The Far Out Son Of Lung And The Ramblings Of A Madman grounds things with freeform jazz-funk groovy goodness. An appropriately bit of bridging ambience in Appendage later, and we're into the highlights off ISDN: Slider and Smokin Japanese Babe. Yeah, you could argue they're FSOL jumping on some trendy genres (big beat and trip-hop, respectively), but they're still done in that nifty, warped, post-apocalyptic, psychedelic, sampleholic way only FSOL were doing at the time.

After that though, ISDN goes wa-a-a-yy deep into sound collages and music making for its own sake. For sure some moments stick out – the electro-chill of You're Creeping Me Out, the spritely melodies in Eyes Pop – Skin Explodes – Everybody Dead - but it's not until eleventh track Egypt that things steer in some sort of direction again. As for Egypt, it's got electro rhythms, chants, crickets, woodwinds... y'know, vintage Lifeforms-era FSOL.

Kai and Amoeba feel like two halves of a whole, what with their muted rhythm sections, though I prefer Amoeba's sputtering voice pads over Kai's industrial drone-throb. Six Guitars remains pure bliss, and Snake Hips takes us out on total psychedelic rock weirdness. An Amorphous one calls from beyond.

So yeah, ISDN does have some of FSOL's best moments. It's just a shame they mostly come at the bookends of the album rather than as a consistent whole.

Voyage - Invader

Tech Itch Recordings: 2019

Absolutely I was gonna' grab me Voyage's follow-up to Genesis. That album introduced me to the extended roster of Technical Itch's own Tech Itch Recordings, and what an intro it was. Hard-hitting Amen break action right out the gate, it confirmed that darkstep from the days of yore was alive and well, and several artists I further checked out yielded many more audio rewards. In the process though, returning to Voyage's debut had me feeling it comparatively one-note and singular, almost too reverent of that late '90s sound. Which is fine, if that's what you're going for. Still, I hoped Voyage (whomever he may be, for he still hasn't provided a name online) would show some evolution whenever his sophomore effort dropped.

Well, he doesn't come out quite so hard. Invader opens up with Clarion, a more moody, atmospheric tech-step cut in the classic Grooverider vein – there's even some jazzy trumpets, though as heard from spa-a-a-a-ace. Sycophant gets back to the Amen-step business though, about as rough and tumble as anything you've heard from this genre. Some of those backing strings though, they seem awful familiar. Maybe it's just my imagination.

Anyhow, Voyage mostly sticks to tech-step's domain for the bulk of Invader. For sure it's about as aggro as this genre can ever get, with bass tones roaring like intergalactic cruiser engines while drums hit with the ferocity of a [sci-fi feral beast]. Really, the drums and bass of this d'n'b feel more in service of the general ominous mood Voyage maintains throughout the album. A few tracks stray from that, like the sparse Overdose and ultra-minimalist Electromagnetic (almost all bass and dubsteppy crackles). Some angelic voices serenade us in Serenade, Soldier gets super-tech its choice of sounds and broken beats, while Crash Site brings in some shuffly action to the Amen break. Yet again though, there's some sounds in this tune that has me reminded of an album from the distant past. Not so much a shared synth patch or whatnot, no, more specific than that.

And then it struck me when the track Diagnostics hit. You might recognize that name as the title of Technical Itch's debut album. Heck, Voyage not only apes that, but a whole bunch of sounds from the album too, primarily from that album's opener Focused, right down to the string refrains (one of the few 'melodic' moments from Tech Itch's record). Clearly this is an homage, Voyage's Diagnostics keeping things on a smooth cruise compared to Tech Itch's original. Is this track ever too on the nose for me though. Like, you could easily convince me this was just some long-lost alternate version of Focused Mark Caro unearthed.

Back to Invader, it's another solid album from Voyage, but the same issue as I had with Genesis does crop up: it's rather singular in execution. The whiplash of hearing Diagnostics also unfortunately leaves the back-end a bit of a drag, my brain forever anticipating the Tech Itch classic instead.

Dance With The Dead - Into The Abyss

self release: 2014

So I got all of Dance With The Dead, the entire Bandcamp catalogue, all ten main releases. Why would I go and do something like that? I've only heard one track of theirs, and it's a remix at that. Yeah, but it's also one of the most awesome tracks I've ever heard, their go with Gost's Reign In Hell an all-timer in getting me absolutely fuckin' hype. If the rest of their catalogue is even a fraction as dope, then a bounty of kick-ass synth-metal must exist.

Where to start though? I could sift through each album before dropping some coin, but y'all know I prefer the exhilarating reactions of unheard purchases. All the cover art is retro fun, like browsing the Horror section of your local VHS rental shop, so hard to decide just on those merits. Wait a minute, everything is only two dollars more than buying a single album? Heck, may as well go with that option. Might help break up my ongoing coverage of the entire catalogues of Lucette Bourdin and Speedy J.

And thus, by Alphabetical Decree (re: what's currently slotted in the ongoing queue), we're starting this deep dive into Dance With The Dead with Into The Abyss. It's... not the most typical of their releases, that's for sure. Like, their iconography is very much in a George A. Romero vein, and this cover art is anything but. I guess it being one of their earliest EPs – in fact, their second release overall, if the Bandcamp dates are believed – the duo had yet to establish much of a proper identity. If finding influence from something a little more Cameron than Carpenter was where their heads were at, so be it.

After an intro of sonar pings and ominous tones letting us know that, yes, we are indeed descending into the depths of the bounding main, Battle holds little back in delivering the epic synthwave stylee: epic build, choir pads, stomping rhythms, squealing vintage synths, and that triumphant guitar action from Tony Kim. Perhaps not as tear-out as you'd expect from a track titled Battle, but gotta' save a little of that for later in.

From there, we get Moon Runner, a track that- wait, “Moon” Runner? I thought we were going into dark, oceanic domains. What's a tune that would sound better fitted in a Dynatron collection doing here? Well, it's a cool tune regardless, if rather typical of mid-'10s synthwave. Let's get back to that propah' Dance With The Dead synth-n-metal action on Mask (and hey, sonar pings again – way to tie things back to the EPs theme, guys!) and Odyssey (ooh, that bassline's almost as good as the on on Reign In Hell). By contrast, Suede sounds more like it should be the opening credits theme to a classic arcade game, while No Survivors wants to be the closing credits to a Cameron film, orchestral swells and all. Mmm, stick to the shredding, mates. (and they would too)

Speedy J - Intercontinental

Plus 8 Records: 1990/2021

The first ever Speedy J release, and boy does it show. Actually, that's unfair, some of the tunes on this four track EP already offering glimmers and hints of where Mr. Paap's career would lead. This being a 1990 record though, there are certain, inescapable sonic markers that have a young producer still playing by the rules as laid out by his contemporaries, whether they be British or Detroitish.

What's weird for me is to even think there being a 'ground zero' for Speedy J records in the first place. Like, obviously he had to start somewhere, but as I only became aware of him during his G-Spot era, his earlier stuff seemed but a mystery. Even when I finally 'caught up' to his debut album Ginger, it didn't feel like I was getting the whole Phase 1 Speedy J story. And sure enough, there were even older records than his Artificial Intelligence era, breaking out with the techno freshmen making their mark on a fledgling Plus 8 Records. Yet still, my brain is convinced there must be something even older than Intercontinental. Some unreleased demo tapes, maybe, or a secret, shameful alias of generic freestyle funk Jochem refuses to acknowledge. There has to be something out there!

The Intercontinental EP – indeed, Speedy J's entire career! - kicks off with Wicked Saw. And yep, that synth line sure sounds like a saw, about as jagged as those sound waves could get in ye' olde year nineteen ninety-aught. Despite some more ominous segments, I can't help but draw comparisons to Adamski's N-R-G, released late the previous year. Yeah, that track is a bit silly and free-flowing, about as you'd expect of UK acid house, whereas Speedy J's Wicked Saw plays things mostly straight and ravey. Just something about those rhythms and funky fills tethers it to Adamski in my mind. Like I said, sonic markers and such. Minimal is minimal techno before minimal techno was really a thing, so here it just sounds like monotonous techno. Or tool techno, if you're being generous. Pass.

Now Journey, that's a Detroit space jam if I ever heard one. Those stuttery synths though, there's something almost... trancey about them. Never mind, here comes some classsy organ licks, breakbeat fills, and bleepy goodness. Why, this tune could even have appeared on early Warp Records, if it wasn't already on a Detroit label. Final track Spectrum gets deeper into bleep territory, and almost, dare I say, “intelligent” take on techno.

So a promising start to a youngling J. He definitely had an early ear for dancefloor effectiveness but some care and thought put into arrangements too. Considering this was still an era when few had many sounds at their disposal, the Speedy one shows how much could be done even with the standard tools of the techno trade. It'd still be a couple years before Jochem would truly stretch though, instead a brief flirtation into ravey anthems just around the corner.

Aes Dana - Inks

Ultimae Records: 2019

I don't want to claim Ultimae Records has 'fallen off', as some do, because that's not really the case. Yeah, their musical manifesto has morphed into something quite different from its inception, but that doesn't mean their quality standards have slipped. They've simply chosen to explore different sonic avenues, and whether you're up for joining them in this journey likely comes down to personal taste. And for myself, I can't say I've always been for it. Whereas Ultimae of old was 'must buy' with every release, I've skipped on a few in more recent years, not even worried some may slip into over-inflated collector's market territory.

And truth be told, Aes Dana's Inks might have been included in there. Much as I've generally liked his older albums like Season 5, Perimeters and Pollen, it's been a long time since he indulged in prog-psy of that nature. Rather, dub techno and journeys through the sonic spaces between has dominated his muse for the past decade, and after the wafer-thin outing that was Far & Off with MikTek, not to mention Ultimae's general direction, I wasn't in any hurry to hear where his muse was going.

Still, I was willing to listen to some Bandcamp samples, and what's this? D'n'B rhythms? In an Ultimae release!? Oh... oh my! Never would I have imagined hearing something like that out of this label, much less from Aes Dana himself. And sure, they're nothing on the level of some fierce Technical Itch Amen break action, but those broken beats in Unfold, Transparency Syndrome, Ashen, and Alep Offset sure skip and stutter like some low-key, ASC microfunk does. Well, I'm sold, let's check Inks out proper-like then.

Honestly though, first impressions are gonna' be tough to get through, because yeah, Mr. Villuis' first solo album in seven years does have that omnipresent, minimalist grey-tone dub techno vibe throughout. If modern Ultimae still doesn't do it for you, little on Inks will change your mind, and you'd be forgiven for dismissing it out of hand.

Yet once this album finally (finally!) started sinking in, I was quite mesmerized by the diversity lurking beneath the surface. Tunes on that more classic Ultimae downbeat tip include the titular opener and Akacie, while techno of all stripes gets a look in with Nuphar Log (classic dub), Peace Corrosion (minimalist proggy outing), and Otherness (d'at Berghain shi'). Some ambient pieces in The Gradual District and Juniper round things out, but man, even Alep Offset is a journey and a half. Ol' Vincent even slows the tempo down to a hip-hop crawl. D'n'B and hip-hop in an Ultimae release? Wonders never cease.

Again, if you remain unconvinced about the label's current general tone, I doubt Inks will change your mind. I was glad I gave this a chance though. Heck, it even got me hype to nab Aes Dana's more recent album, (a) period. Heard quite good things about that one and it's already sold out. Son of a b

Owl - Infinite Horizon

Silent Season: 2021

I brought this up in the last Silent Season review I did (Daar's Entire), but man, has there ever been a lasting drought from this label. Daar's album remains the 'final' item they released, while this Infinite Horizon from Owl is only a month older. I feel like I'll have gone through the entire Silent Season back-catalogue in reverse order before they release something new. You think I'm joking, but Tomas Jirku's Touching The Sublime is also in my queue, currently the 'fourth-to-last' item from the label. Ooh, and now the OCD compels me to grab the digital-only Moon Song EP from Yuka, just to claim I have all these in proper order. Or heck, why not drop a hundred bones on the entire Bandcamp collection? Sure, I already have twenty out of the sixty-seven releases, but I'm gonna' need something to satisfy my Silent Season fix in their ongoing absence.

Owl is Pierre Nesi, a chap who's released a scattershot amount of material over the past decade. He had an earlier, modestly successful run making drum 'n' bass and future garage with fellow Belgian Lucas D'Haeyaert as Glÿph (yikes, guys, change that Discogs photo! You look right out of an Aphex Twin video). Seems the Owl alias emerged as a means of exploring the more atmospheric elements of his muse, with rhythms more on the downbeat. He made a debut on Silent Season as part of their 10 Year Collection series of vinyl releases, returning half a decade later for there here seven track debut solo album.

As this is a Silent Season release, I went into Infinite Horizon fully expecting to hear things like fuzzy field recordings, layers of dubby timbre, and maybe even some of techno's rhythmic pulse. Sure enough, opener Moonshine Haze provides that, but gosh, why does that distant howl put my nerves on edge? There's still some sense of hazy, grey-tone melancholy to Mr. Nesi's choice of synth harmony, which fits that omnipresent coastal rainforest vibe I've long associated with the label. There's just something oddly bleak about it too.

And that tone doesn't let up in following tracks Glimpse Of Decline and Losing Cohesion. Despite moments of melodic respite (dashes of spritely bells in Decline, the sound of chirping birds in Cohesion), there's still an overwhelming sense of depression. Heck, I'll just come right out and say Two Lands is out-and-out dark ambient, the sort you might hear on a Cryo Chamber cinematic drone release.

I can't say that's the dominate tone of Infinity Horizon though. Hidden Forest is a straight up dub techno cut in the classic Silent Season wide-screen ambient vein, while Distant Transmission and the titular cut go more for the reflective ambient dub outings. Overall, this seven tracker hits most of the vintage vibes you'd expect out of this label. I just have never heard Silent Season go as dark as Two Lands before. Makes me wonder what else I might have missed over the years.