Speedy J - Ni Go Snix

NovaMute: 1997/2021

The absolute limit ol' Jochem took his experimental side, this one. Of course, in techno circles of the latter end of the '90s, 'experimental' usually meant all manner of noisy rackets and wild distortions. Fair enough, the IDM leagues gaining plenty of critical praise and nifty Chris Cunningham videos for their efforts. Speedy J already had ties to the ranks of Aphex Twin and Autechre from his Artificial Intelligence days, so it'd make sense he'd find his way back there at some point, following similar paths they were already treading. Maybe rope in a couple like-minded chaps for a remix or two. Makes better sense than continuing to work with Banco de Gaia.

As an in-between single following G Spot, I have to imagine Ni Go Snix shocked a lot of folks. So much so that Jochem put a reassuring tag on the record that this was indeed, not, a new single for the up-coming album Public Energy No. 1. Don't worry, then, if it's not to your liking, it's just a one-off dalliance satisfying his need to go abrasive after all the plaudits for going so melodic on his last album. (or is it...!)

Well, just how noisy can one Speedy J track be? Pretty darn noisy, I'd say. Ni Go Snix is basically an electro track, but fed through so much distortion, you're hearing almost nothing but feedback on those bleeps and bloops. It's, like, electrocore, or electore. Ooh, that's one for the genre books! Look, if nonsense words like 'complextro' can get accepted, so can 'electore'. Anyhow, there honestly isn't much to this track beyond just how noisy Speedy J can make it, and with the Snix Mix, he makes it almost unbearably noisy indeed. This is, like hardectro!

Like A Tim doesn't do much with his remix, basically shuffling around the originals sounds for more of a freeform jam. Mike Paradinas, on the other hand give Ni Go Snix the good ol' µ-Ziq treatment, speeding the beats up to his brand of hyper drill 'n' bass action, then throwing in some spastic pad work and twee melodies in support, lending the track a rather Baroque vibe. Y'know, vintage µ-Ziq.

The CD version of this single – and by extension, the Bandcamp upload I snagged - did include a couple remixes for a track that appeared on the forthcoming Speedy J album: Hayfever. The Izm Mix by the hopeless obscure Jeroen van Dorsten turns in a future-shock heavy breaks tune that sounds like what The Future Sound Of London might have done to a Speedy J track if given the chance. The less obscure Sefan Robbers, meanwhile, maintains the future-shockiness, but opts for something a little more drum 'n' bassy, and is quite the sky-high mellow vibe after having gone so through much aural assault prior. How do these remixes stack against the original Hayfever? Heck if I know, I haven't heard Public Energy No. 1 yet. We'll find out soon enough!

Dance With The Dead - Near Dark

self released: 2014

Stepping back in time with this one, but what else is new with these discography dives, eh? Okay, my recent Twitter ones actually are chronological, but that's a totally different gimmick. Not that me buying up someone's entire catalogue off Bandcamp is much of a gimmick either, but at least my alphabetical stipulation throws a little variety in their sequence. Besides, there's a couple discographies I've gone chronological too, such as Pet Shop Boys and... hmm, gosh, is that all? Feel like there's more I could do, should do. What other act out there have I not done a single review of, but really do like, actually? There's got to be some.

Anyhow, I think we're well caught up on what's the deal regarding Dance With The Dead. Near Dark was their second album, third overall following the EP Into The Abyss. And if there was any indication it didn't take long for Justin Pointer and Tony Kim to figure out what their sound could entail, this here LP is proof-positive. For sure synthwave that leans heavy into its rockier attributes was well established by the mid-'10s, but these chaps, they figured out the perfect blend to push it just that little bit extra, a sweetening of melody and mush of mosh. I really can't explain it any better how their style of synths 'n' thrash is set as such perfect levels here, and carried on to this day. Is it for everyone? Probably not, but for what I want out this music, I couldn't ask for more.

I've got a lot of word count left to burn here, so how about some good ol' track-by-track descriptions, then. Opener Invader sets us off with a stomping half-time beat that marches along with backing arps and synths stabs before Tony's guitar gets its wailing solo action on. A fairly straight-forward tune, then unleashes some low-end shredding for a propah' head-bangin' finale. Now that your body is warmed up, let's up the tempo with Dressed To Kill with more of those gnarly bass-synths powering forward as synths do those vintage '80s horror movie riffs. A little muted breakdown gives us pause, then bring it all back for another sweet guitar solo. Go on, raise those devil horns, I know you want to.

Waves goes more the synth-pop route, the guitar action in support rather than the previous two, but Tony gets plenty of shred time in Midnight Never Ends, even as the synths get their trance on. Speaking of 'ravey' music, Andromeda does that thing Frankie Bones loves to do wherein it sounds like the music is coming from some distant area, maybe a warehouse, before emerging through the rain in full concert glory.

Holy cow, I've burned through a lot of words fast, and I still have half an album left. Uh, Eye Of The Storm: synth ballad. Near Dark: heavy rocker. The Pitt: heavy synther with soloing. Graveyard Shift: spooky rocker. Riser: closing credits-er. There, a vintage track-by-track review! Dope album, too.

Rapoon - Navigating By Colour

Soleilmoon Recordings: 1999

Feels like this has been a long time coming, but I finally get to talk about a vintage Rapoon album! Okay, I've only really been covering the chap for half a decade now, just four albums worth in that time. And even with that scant selection, Mr. Storey's muse has proven a wildly divergent one indeed, such that you'd be hard-pressed to point to any singular sound as That Definitive Rapoon Stylee.

Heck, I'm sure many folks would claim I've already done so, what with having reviewed Vernal Crossing and all. I'll grant his fusion of primal loops with industrial ambient gave Rapoon a significant boost in profile, especially in the wake of his Zoviet France days. Still, it wasn't that sound that first lured me in, but rather a more typical techno approach to the craft. There's still the endless loops and layered dub, just done in a more thumping sort of way. And now with Navigating By Colour, I've finally landed upon an album that delivers it in... well, a couple tracks worth, at least.

First, how does Navigating By Colour fall within the greater Rapoon lexicon. Hell if I know, but here's a basic rundown. Released on Soleilmoon Recordings (where other sonic terrorists like Muslimgauze, Merzbow, and Coil have been comfy), packaged with a dozen postcards featuring art similar to that on the CD slipcase. A real collector's item, this, and by extension not an easy album to find via your usual modern outlets. I feel I lucked out on even finding a seller for this at all, postcards included, but so it goes some days on the Discogs Marketplace.

Opener Blue Hemisphere is the sort of Rapoony music I was introduced to, a brisk rhythm with layered operatic drones ebbing and flowing as things play out. So simple, yet so seductive, losing one's psyche into pure tribalism. Midway through the album, Red Hemisphere gets deeper into the drumming, such that the dub effects morph just as much as the backing pad work. There isn't much else on Navigating by Colour with featured rhythms, though From This Point... does loop mechanical chugging and churning into a rhythm onto itself.

Mostly though, we're in industrial drone territory with this album. Some pieces, like Prussian and Imagine, get weirdly abstract with bits of spoken dialog and layered vocal tones, while The Last Gladding Tide and Winter Shields edge closer to the realms of modern classical. Cerulean and Sienna are pure concrete grinders though, and Eden's Plains is even more punishing in its dark isolationism. Alizarin gets all noisy towards the end of its ten-minute run, and by jove, I do believe we've run the gamut of what one might expect out of a Rapoon joint. If you were expecting anything at all, that is.

Which is half the fun with artists like these, isn't it? Sure, you may have an inkling what to expect, but they'll almost always surprise you just the same.

Lucette Bourdin - The Mystery Of The Midnight Sun

Fantasy Enhancing: 2006/2021

Oh, did y'all forget I still have a whole box-set of Lucette Bourdin? It's certainly been a spell since I last covered anything from Retrospective Box Set (2005 – 2017). Glimpses, Vol. 1 was back in May, but that's technically a remix album from Stephen Philips. No, we have to go all the way back to March, the double-feature of Drum-atic Atmospheres and Drum Repercussions, for some actual Lucette originals covered on this here blog. That's literally two seasons ago! (note: ignore the too-warm October I'm currently sitting through – it's supposed to be Autumn, not Fire-Season August)

Considering I started covering this collection almost a year ago, it's been slow going getting through all twenty CDs, to say the least. Don't worry though, I'll be doubling that coverage in short order, starting with this here Mystery Of The Midnight Sun. Ooh, that's something of a foreshadow, isn't it? Like, what region of the world could even have a midnight sun?

This is one of Lucette's earlier albums, before her breakout of... Erm, I'm not sure she really had a breakout, per se. At least, not in a traditional music industry fashion. I just assume Rising Fog is something of the sort, given it got the remix album treatment and all. Regardless, this one came out before, thus making it the earliest album of hers I've covered yet. Not the earliest though, there's still some in her discography from way-er back.

Before we can uncover the enigma of a Sol sighting in the twilight hours, we must take a Voyage Beyond The Five Planets. Wait, only five? Well, yeah, if you're only going by what's typically observable in the night sky. For much of human history, we've only known of five planets, the very concept of Earth being a 'wanderer' completely alien to the masses. Plus, it wasn't until precise astronomic study of orbital mechanics that the notion of more existing beyond our basic sight was even conceived. In a nutshell, Ms. Bourdin is conjuring thoughts and sentiments of venturing beyond that which we can observe, and for a tranquil piece of ambient synth pad and timbre such as this, it's a fitting mood.

By comparison, the titular follow-up is surprisingly short and almost desolate, though not without its own tranquility too – it really can't be helped with ambient drone of this nature. My Life With Bach gets quirkier with a burbly synth rhythm, playing about with higher-pitched synth tones like intertwined rope chords. There is something of a Baroque feel to it, the sort of piece you could easily imagine being performed just as easily on a grand organ.

The Mystery Of The Midnight Sun closes out with a twenty-six minute long drone 'n' reverb piece, Dream Traveler, synths sliding along flowing pads in a lucid fashion. I thought this was the longest Lucette composition I'd yet heard, but no, that still goes to the near thirty-minute long Memories Of Acoma. Ancient Memories indeed.

FSOL - Music From Calendars

fsoldigital.com: 2021

So, you think you're a hardcore Future Sound Of London fan? Got all their classic '90s albums, do ya'? Pft, that's not even scratching the surface. Side project stuff then, like Amorphous Androgynous, Humanoid, and all those early Earthbeat records. Not even close to a completist. Ah, you kept connected with all their 21st Century albums then, the Environments series, more AA prog-rock, even that Blackhill Transmitter thing. No, wait, the entirety of From The Archives too! That's pretty hardcore, no doubt, but still not propah' FSOL 'ardcore. Well shit, son-of-lung, what else is there? The soundtracks for films that no one saw (Four Forests) or don't exist (The Cartel)? Getting warmer...

If you consider yourself a true, bells-and-all hardcore FSOL fan, you've subscribed to their Calendar series. Once a month, the lads send a new tune, usually as their main nomme de plume, but under different aliases as well. It's a series that's been ongoing for half a decade now, and a handy way of keeping up to speed on the goings-on at EBv.

Obviously, I'm not that hardcore of a FSOL fan, since I never subscribed to this series. Nor did I much care to indulge the yearly summation compilations either. Look, when I can't even be bothered to get any of the Archives material, you're damned skippy I haven't the care to hear whatever random sonic studio doodles Brain and Garry squirt out a given month. Now, a gathering of all the choice material from a four year time-span, that's the ticket!

If you have been keeping up with your recent FSOL output, much of Music From Calendars 2017-2020 will be familiar territory. The weird, psychedelic abstraction (Frozen Air, Blacked Out Windows, Memories Of A Yesterday), the future-shock electro (Near Field, Obscured By Dark Intervals), the primordial chill (Artificial Placement Of Emotion, Commensalism, Riverbeds), the... throwback Earthbeat techno? Oh, wow, Alertions certainly is a surprise. Guess they made this just to show if they wanted to make something danceable, they're still more than capable of.

It's not a total FSOL love-in, a couple side-projects getting a side-glance in. Second track Surrounding The Garden Is A Fog comes from Synthi A, a deliberate throw-back to the days of '70s synth wizards. It's one of their more recent projects, conceiving only one album in 2016, plus a couple Calendars tracks. That this piece was considered among their best recent works is, not that surprising, to be honest. For '70s synth wibbly-warbly stuff (think Tomita or Schulze), it's rather nice. The other 'non-FSOL, but is still FSOL' track is Propogate from Humanoid. It definitely shows off Brian's love affair with the more techno-y side of IDM, but seems more fascinated with experimentation for its own sake.

Overall, Music From Calendars runs a tidy fifty minutes, and flows nicely from beginning to end. It still doesn't come off much more than a glorified sampler of FSOL music, but then we've been enjoying those since ISDN, haven't we?

Sykonee's 'Sportsing' Surveys: GENESIS

I like me some prog rock. At least, I think I like me some prog rock. I know I like Yes, but have I really dove into any other of the famed prog rock bands? I've dabbled in some Pink Floyd, but that's like saying you've dabbled in some weed when you're in high school - almost everyone does at some point. I was recommended Rush, but after trying out some songs, just wasn't feeling the immediate connection that I got with Yes. King Crimson and Emerson, Lake, & Palmer are other bands I'm told are Very Important in the world of prog rock, and maybe I'll get to them at some point down the line. I dunno' tho', I kinda' like savouring their mystic for as long as I can.

What about Genesis then? Genesis? Yes, Genesis. Don't they have, like, a 'rep', or something? Their '80s stuff sure does, but despite that, I can't deny enjoying some of their songs, even if I'm not supposed to, or something. Sure, why not. It'll be an interesting contrast hearing how a full-on art rock band can transition into a group generating some of the biggest pop hits of a decade. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Wow, what a prog rocky sentiment, eh?

Well, that was...n't quite as fun? Can't deny there were periods of slog through this discography, but a fascinating journey nonetheless. Can't knock the technical achievements in this production, though they do carry an air of high-falutin self-importance. When these guys were hitting their highs though, it was definitely as good as music of this sort gets. Wait, am I talking about the band Genesis, or the show Rings Of Power?

Anyhow, I think I'll get back to some electronic dance music for my next discography dive. How does a little ATB sound for all of y'all?

Peter Broderick - Music For A Sleeping Sculpture Of Peter Broderick

Slaapwel Records: 2009

The nifty thing about Slaapwel Records isn't so much their dedication to the artform of sleepy-time music – that's just a nice bonus. Nay, it's the near-complete freedom the label offers its invited artists to indulge themselves. They don't want just some noodly pad drone work stretched out over thirty minutes, there's plenty of that on the market. Let's hear what a shoegaze artist might come up with, or some dudes with tape loops. Or a classic pianist, that'll do too.

I've touched upon Peter Broderick before, a classically trained musician mostly known for piano pieces performed in art houses. Not really my scene, but he makes nice enough music that can be enjoyed in all manner of locales, not just while dispassionately gazing at wall art or floating dancers. A recurring theme in his album work is the Music For... series: Music For The Musical Saw, Music For On Paper Wings, Music For Falling From Trees, and so on. That he would approach a Slaapwel record from such an angle isn't that surprising – what is this label, after all, but music for falling asleep to? That he would take it to such an obtuse angle, however, even caught the label's personnel off guard.

For sure I can envision Mr. Broderick crafting a piece with the intent of sending his own person into the Land Of Nod, as that's something many artists would likely do. I can even envision him taking a photo or video of him falling asleep, and crafting a piece in support of the images portrayed, as though he's serenading a lullaby to himself. Again, something I'm sure many artists would do, as it's the most logical approach to the concept. Yet somehow, even that seemed limiting, as though Peter was performing for a being that really wasn't there, but an abstraction of who he was in the past. No, he wanted to literally perform for his sleeping self, in the flesh, and the only way to do that would rely on dark, forbidden sciences like human cloning or multiverse traversal. Fine, we'll do the next closest thing, a self-sculpture lying in bed.

Honestly, I'm not sure if that's quite accurate – couldn't find much info on Mr. Broderick's creative flow on this project. Still, I can't help but come away bemused by the thought of him sitting in the room with this 'sleeping' sculpture of himself, musically easing the lifeless golem into a state it cannot conceive of.

As for the music, it moves along in stages, angelic choir pads ebbing and flowing for a while, eventually replaced by Peter's gentle piano strokes with some spoken words, then repeating once more before the half-hour's out. It's very Eno, very relaxing, and very soothing on the soul. Peter must have much tender love and care for his sleeping sculpture, because I know I sure am put into great ease of mind as this piece plays out, and I'm a complete stranger to Mr. Broderick!

Encym - Music For Meditation

Neotantra: 2020

Yep, another Neotantra release. Just how many more of these do I have? Not many, though there is a whole box-set lurking further down the queue, so y'all have that to look forward to. Honestly though, I haven't gotten anything new from the label in over a year now, mostly because much of their recent output has been re-issues of Lee Norris back-catalogue. It's honestly a bit weird seeing items like Spacebound and In The Silence Of The Subconscious now on Neotantra, having long ago gathered them on other labels like ...txt and Carpe Sonum Records. Some things like Autumn Of Communion and Understanding Holy Ghosts re-appearing on Fantasy Enhancing, I get, but why not Alien or Abandoned Communities or The Longing Daylight? I'm sure there's a method to Mr. Norris' selection process, but bully me if I can figure it.

Anyhow, Encym. As is too often the case with these Neotantra releases, this artist is a total blank within the Discoggian archives. Music For Meditation is his lone album, though has made numerous compilation appearances in recent years, including plenty on Neotantra's various Tʌntrə compilations (which I never indulge in because each volume drops so-o-o-o- much music that I really, really, really fear having to write reviews on). Basically, one working his way from the minor leagues, finally getting his chance on the main-bench rotation. Sorry, this sports analogy sucks, but 'tis the season where all the sports be sportsing.

Anyhow, Mr. Encym does have a Bandcamp, where a whole bunch more music can be found, with links to all other manner of social media. He self-describes as an ambient jazz bass player, which may have your Bill Laswell triggers flaring, but that's alright. Listening to Music For Meditation, I can totally hear some Laswellian influences and connections. Though really, one could toss a rock in Bill's direction and land on any number of musical associations, his sonic reach as vast as it is.

Let me straight up say not everything on here is 'meditation worthy'. Pieces like Imbued, Quietude, and Traffic Kng feature some rather harsh tones and over-cranked dub effects, not exactly the sort of music best suited for relaxing For sure they're interesting sonic experiments to listen to – if anything, Encym knows how to engage the listener in his freeform music making, especially with a good set of headphones on your head (*cough*). At no point was I bored by what I was hearing, enjoying the variety, even if some portions came off more confrontational than others.

That said, there are some lovely pieces of ambient dub and bass tone drone throughout this album. The titular cut is pure minimalist calm, New River and The Wakening Of The Sky are almost playful in its ebb and throes of layered dub pads, while London Departures is the sort of tranquil ambient drone that makes perfect sense watching the sun slowly rise over rolling country-side hills. From within a moving vehicle, that is.

ASC & Inhmost - The Moons Of Saturn

Auxilary: 2021

I'd been wanting to splurge on a little more non-Silent Season ASC for a while, but the right album to break me never quite materialized. Even Trans-Neptunian Objects, though a sexy temptation, wasn't enough to lure me into more of Mr. Clements' muse. As soon as The Moons Of Saturn dropped, however, there was no holding me back. Without so much as a second thought, I snapped that album up, along with a handful of other titles that caught my interest. Like, Saturn has a lot of moons, so this would have to be nothing less than a quadruple-LP extravaganza to do the concept justice, right?

Well, not quite. James and Simon Huxtable (returning as Inhmost) set their sonics to only seven bodies of the Saturnian system, appropriate ambient drone pieces playing out as though you're taking in their vistas. Opener Symphony Of Rhea has a suitably mysterious aire about it, as though enrapturing you into solving one of its greater mysteries: whether a tenuous ring system once orbited the icy moon. Man, just think about that, a ring system around a moon of the planet most famous for its own ring system – it's ringception! I do have to say though, this piece has a lot of washed-out drone-dub going on too, making me feel more like we're hanging out on the water coasts of planet Earth. Or maybe the methane coasts of Titan.

Speaking of, Sunrise On Titan follows, and while the track maintains the mysterious tone, it's more spacious in its timbre, almost warm. Okay, I know 'warmth' is relative when it comes to these bodies on the outer regions of the solar system, but I wasn't expecting quite this sort of soothing calm. How would one even see a sunrise on Titan anyway? The sun's already but a bright point of light that far out, so ain't no way one could see it through all that moon's chemical smog.

Storm On Tethys comes next and... okay, I have to pause the review for a moment. There's no atmosphere on Tethys, so there can be no storms on the moon. My suspension of common sense is completely shattered. Are ASC and Inhmost suggesting there were 'storms' after the creation of the craters Odysseus or Ithaca Chasma? I must now create a 6.3 hour long YouTube video ranting about this incongruity!

*ahem* So Storm On Tethys gets in on more of that layered dub-drone as Symphony Of Rhea, while the truly dark, mysterious Norse group moon Fenrir (not even Cassini could capture it) gets an appropriately dark, mysterious piece of cosmic ambient drone for it. Pan, The Shepherd Moon, is comparatively light and jubilant, befitting of a tiny mote of debris shaped like a flying saucer flitting among Saturn's rings.

But of course, the show-stealer, as always, is Enceladus, the glimmering moon with tantalizing geysers given a fourteen-plus minute dubby, ambient drone piece to close us out. Iapetus once again left inconsolable.

KMFDM - Money

Wax Trax! Records/Metropolis: 1992/2006

Going from KMFDM's latest release of In Dub, to... well, not their earliest release. Much as I generally like this band, I don't think I can handle ultra-raw early-ass industrial rock. Or I may, the allure of What Do You Know, Deutschland? too tempting to resist forever. Still, I'm dipping back far enough, into a time I know little about.

Like a vast majority of folks not steeped in industrial, I learned of KMFDM's existence after they were swept into the TVT Records fold when the New York print bought a flailing Chicago print in Wax Trax! Records. As Sascha and co. were signed to Wax Trax!, they benefited from TVT's marketing, the label quite aggressive in pushing and promoting its bands wherever they could (looking for the next Nine Inch Nails their biggest incentive, no doubt). It was this greater exposure that clued folks like me into some wildly thrashy EBM beats lurking on the fringes of the dankest clubs.

All that didn't actually happen until their album Angst though. Instead, we're taking a step back to the prior record, Money, the last of the Wax Trax! Proper era. And what a fitting album capturing the tumultuous times with their labels, because hoo-wee, the band was going through its first of many tumultuous times as well. Even if you knew nothing about the behind-the-scenes going-ons, you'd have to suspect something wasn't quite right in KMFDM-Land.

Things kick off fun enough, the titular opener bringing bombastic riffs and orchestral stings before settling into funky EBM boogie. Things carry on about in typical KMFDM fashion, if a little more primitive compared to their later work, as would be expected. This album also has the distinction of being the first appearance of Dorona Alberti, who's vocals would become just as much a definitive part of the band's peak years as any amount of Sascha screaming and Günter Schulz shredding.

As Money plays out though, one can't help but get a sense the songwriting is a bit lacking. Rather than full-tilt buttrock industrial, things seem to settle into repetitive loops, music more in service of clubbing fodder. If you didn't know better, you'd assume Money was just a stopgap of EBM dance remixes, the care and attention paid to actual songs absent.

Fortunately, the liner notes help you to know better, a perfectly legit reason for this album coming off as two halves, one of which is incomplete. Turns out this was supposed to be an album of two halves, the first written by Sascha, the other written by band co-founder En Esch. When submitted to the label, however, they basically rejected En's material, leading to a splitting of the duo (they later reconciled), leaving Sascha to cobble together some new material to make the album's due date. Given all that, it's remarkable the extra tunes turned out as reasonably well-off as they did, but yeah, don't go into Money expecting similar highs as the rest of KMFDM's '90s output.