Kraftwerk - The Man-Machine

Astralwerks: 1978/2009

Bunch of sell-outs. Sure, jump on the disco bandwagon. Abandon conceptual LPs in favor of appealing to gaudy, dolled-up dance clubs. Dear Lord, they’ve made an ode directly to one of those types in The Model. It’s that Moroder influence, isn’t it. That’s the Italians, ruining everything, and now creative German electronic Krautrock music with corny pop melodies. Have your time in the lime-light, Kraftwerk, it won’t last. Everyone will forget this travesty of an album by the next decade, and the true artists of this era, like Cluster and Neu!, will be remembered for centuries.

Said some Berlin hipster in ’78. Probably.

As for the rest of the world, those charming pop melodies in The Man-Machine finally got regular folks regarding Kraftwerk as something more than a one-hit curiosity, even getting TV time and performing as the titular machine men. While their prior albums were landmarks in showing off what electronic music could produce, this one proved it could exist just fine alongside any ol' mainstream hit and not be regarded as some novelty (re: Autobahn). Granted, The Robots or The Model weren't tearing up charts the world over, but you just know many other electronic music hopefuls were taking notes.

Debate persists over which Kraftwerk album is their best, but for pure accessibility, The Man-Machine easily tops the rest. Them Germans always had an ear for a melody, but here they craft the ear-wormiest hooks they could, sounding as naturally pop as any top hit-makers of the ‘60s (you know which ones). And sure, for all you highfalutin types out there, this album does offer a proper concept. Almost certainly inspired by the classic sci-fi film Metropolis, a running theme of future societies permeates every track (sans The Model). Whether Kraftwerk aimed to spread a poignant message of such futurism with their tunes or were content in providing simple pictures with their music is up to interpretation, but that’s good pop music for you.

The particulars of The Man-Machine, you’ve heard in some form over the years. The Robots has long been the stand-out, what with those precision-perfect rhythms, spacious sound design, succinct hooks, and wicked-awesome vocal effects (it’s also great for testing headphones and stereos!). At the other end of the album is the titular cut, a cousin to The Robots, and while not as catchy, has equally awesome vocal effects. Elsewhere, Spacelab and Metropolis get their Moroder disco on, likely inspiring a legion of future space synth and trance producers in the process. Neon Lights is the obligatory extended Kraftwerk jam, charming in its own right with shimmering synths, though you have to endure Ralf’s warbling to get there. And yes, The Model, definitely lyrically goofy synth-pop by any standard, but holy cow, that bassline, mang!

Of course, for the musically egg-headed out there, The Man-Machine contains juicy goodies aplenty to drool over (theory! gear! spawned genres!), but I’m out of space. Not time though, as this album’s as timeless as Florian’s fashion.

Stylophonic - Man Music Technology

Prolifica: 2002/2003

This album had everything successful going for it. Catchy crossover tunes, variety of contemporary sounds without coming off instantly dated, general praise from every EDM magazine that mattered, and even half-page ads in said magazines filled with quotable plaudits (best: “Great album, great hair. What more do you want?” DJ Mag). And yet, only blank stares when Stylophonic’s brought up. Heck, I didn't even know about the guy, and I must have seen those ads in Muzik Magazine. Nay, Man Music Technology was a blind purchase, one that I spread the love of any chance I get. Not that it mattered, but it was the most promotion Stefano Fontana’s project got in Vancouver (um, no).

So who is this critical darling barely anyone remembers? According to his page at Lord Discogs, Stefano Fontana is an “Italian DJ and producer”; it’s all that’s written for his bio. Wow, not even love from his own marketing department? Utterly unknown laptop ambient noodlers get bigger bios (mind, those are all self-written in the third person). Man Music Technology was Mr. Fontana’s first LP – as Stylophonic or otherwise – with prior singles primarily lead-ups to this album. Almost all his compilation duty consists of DJ pool promotions, with a couple Ministry Of Sound appearances too. Success?

Getting into some actual music, Man Music Technology runs through various forms of house, electro, acid, and funk. You’d be forgiven in initially thinking his tunes were produced by other, more successful acts, as the influences from (credible) dance chart toppers runs throughout this album. Soulreply gets in on some of that loopy French house action, including samples from Chic’s Sometimes You Win. Elsewhere, Bizarre Mind ups the acid-funk into sleazy electroclash territory, while Break @ 100 BPM, It’s The Old School With The New School, and Way Of Life get into electro-funk and hip-hop territory. The latter also includes a guest verse by Digital Underground front-man Shock-G – who also offers an extra verse in his Humpty Hump persona on the same track. Damn, how much more cool can this track get, and the answer is none more cool.

All Nite Long digs into proper electro house (yes, you 2004 gits, this is what electro house should sound like, not dumb-fuck farting basslines!) and since Basement Jaxx were experts at tossing multiple genres into radio-friendly house, Stylophonic apes the same trick with plenty more tunes (Vinalstyloz, Da Symphony, Game Over) that should have gotten more radio rotation than none at all. Man, not even car advertisement deals? Help me out here, Europeans, did anything get annoyingly licensed out? Speaking of which, closer track If Everybody In The World Loved Everybody In The World is an easy contender for “Most Groove Armada Track” on this album.

Okay, I’m generally ribbing on Stylophonic here. Man Music Technology honestly is a fine LP. His sound may not be going anywhere the big boys have gone, but he does it just as capably as anyone has. Maybe he needed a better agent.

Banco de Gaia - The Magical Sounds Of Banco de Gaia

Six Degrees Records: 1999/2000

Despite the brilliance that was Big Men Cry, Toby Marks couldn't mope forever. He freed himself of old label woes, established his own print in Disco Gecko, and discovered something in the process: the idea of Banco de Gaia as a proper band could work. All these factors likely contributed to the sudden, upbeat change in tone for his fourth proper LP, The Magical Sounds Of Banco de Gaia. Even the title's playfully tongue-in-cheek: nothing sombre, political, or reflective here, just happy fun-times found within, trust.

And even if all that wasn't enough to convince you that you were in for a peppier album than normal, the first track is I Love Baby Cheesy, a truly ridiculous title if ever there was, and a right hoot to boot. I've already reviewed the single for that though, and truth is it was the only real single to emerge from Magical Sounds. Back in those days, you could count on at least a pair of EPs, so what's up with that? Were there no other single-worthy tunes on here?

B’ah, what a laugh - choice cuts were selected for other releases, is all. The lovey-dubby Sinhala and spacey ethno-breaks Touching The Void made the cut on the 10 Years retrospective, while a live rendition of funky, world beat, communal-chanter No Rain appeared on another retrospective in Memories Dreams Reflections. Oh, and Glove Puppet was re-purposed into trip-hop for the follow-up album Igizeh, which makes some sense as the version here’s about as solemn as Magical Sounds gets, what with mournful strings and samples of war playing in the background (yeah, still got that Pink Floyd thing going on).

The three other tracks aren’t slouches either, and in some ways are among my favourite Banco tunes around. Harvey And The Old Ones, for instance, ranks high among the most unique tunes to come from the World Bank. Layers of instruments and rhythmic chants continually build upon each other, conjuring the sort of imagery you’d expect of a tribal gathering out in the hills of India. Things briefly break down midway, then a thumpin’ techno beat emerges as everything rejoins the party for a raucous climax. It’s a fun track all around, the sort of tune that’d go off wonderfully at an outdoor hippie jam. 144k? is another buoyant track, though it wanders around with melancholic, atmospheric ambient dub for much of its duration. Considering the downbeat nature of the opening two-thirds, having such an uplifting end to the tune’s almost cathartic, despite Marks laying the sentiment on rather thick with a chanting sample of “We are beautiful people. We are chosen ones.” Follow-up Frog’s Dinner gets back to the world beat dub style he made his name on from the Planet Dog days, but this one wanders a bit much for my liking.

So I like Magical Sounds Of Banco de Gaia, but ya’ll knew I would anyway. I like everything from Marks, right? Eh, wait until we reach the ‘Y’s.

Snap! - The Madman's Return

Arista: 1992

Objectivity? Oh ho ho ho, that’s a good one! I wore the shit out of my original tape – yes, tape! – a frequent go-to collection of tunes for when I wanted something ‘dark’ and ‘heavy’ during my teenaged honeymoon year of ‘techno’ discovery. Of course, Snap!’s sophomore album The Madman’s Return is hardly dark or heavy when sat against the underground of ’92, but compared to the curiosity of early ‘90s chart topping EDM, perhaps so. Euro dance as we know of it today had yet to properly emerge (Rhythm Is A Dancer certainly helped get things rolling though), while New Jack Swing and hip-house was at its apex before crumbling away. Kriss Kross’ Jump, House Of Pain’s Jump Around, and Bobby Brown’s Humpin’ Around were some of the biggest hits of that year – guess everyone just wanted to jump ‘n hump around in ’92.

Snap! itself was going through changes, a conflict of ideas for their next move. The rapper Turbo B wanted to go more hip-hop, heavily inspired by the political words of Public Enemy and the like. However, Münzing and Anzilotti- whoops, I mean Benites and Garrett III, the German producers lurking in the studio, preferred moving on from urban, the sounds of Belgian beat, trance, and 'techno' catching their ears instead.

The Madman’s Return is something of a compromise from each, the result of which an album that’s surprisingly unique and holds up two decades on (ahaha! ‘Objectivity’…). The opener’s essentially a hip-house tune with Turbo B going on about how he’s back and ready to start some shit, but coupled with clanking percussion, acid, and a deliciously grimy hook, it’s unlike any hip-house you’ve ever heard before or after. Later, Mr. B goes off on the nature of sampling in Who Stole It?, and brags a bunch on the ridiculously heavy-beat tune Money. Sure, he’s not gonna have Chuck D sweating anytime soon, but the typical euro-dance rapper’s firmly put into touch by his wordplay.

Unfortunately, the other half of the album has ol’ Durron making sexy come-ons (Colour Of Love, Believe In It, Don’t Be Shy) or offering simplistic platitudes (See The Light). The tunes themselves aren’t half-bad, mind, though the former bunch are clearly attempting to recreate the success of the first album’s Mary Had A Little Boy. Meanwhile, See The Light is Snap!’s go at another ‘techno’ hit, and you can hear Turbo B struggling for enthusiasm for it. Heck, you could also hear it in the original single of Rhythm Is A Dancer, which makes the stripped-down album version all the more awesome – instead of a silly rap, simple spoken dialog conjuring an apocalyptic future. I told you this album’s dark!

Snap! were often derided when they were still active, but as the majority of crossover EDM grew ever more shallow and tripe, folks have warmed to group’s strong production and pop perfection. The Madman’s Return is easily their peak, transitioning from fluff urban to fluff trance in a remarkably gritty way.

Hot Chip - Made In The Dark (Original TC Review)

Astralwerks: 2008

(2014 Update:
Remember when it was bands that was to rescue EDM from the '00s doldrums? Man, critical darlings like LCD Soundsystem, The Klaxons, and Hot Chip were all the rage in 2008, earning magazine covers and high scores alike. Then David Guetta broke America, soon followed by dubstep's explosion of popularity, and everyone subsequently forgot about bands again. Well, not exactly. Acts like Hot Chip appealed to an older crowd, whereas the nu-EDM appealed to the youngin's out there, and as with all things, it's the youthful movements that'll dictate general cultural trends - easier to market to, y'see.

Hot Chip still had a successful follow-up in 2010 to this album though, One Life Stand; I'd even started a review of it before I gave up the writing gig for a couple years (more reasons for this forthcoming in two weeks!). In 2012, they released In Our Heads, which passed by with little fanfare. Guess folks (kids?) weren't buying what they were selling anymore, although I hear they're still kick-ass live. If they include ample tunes from this album in their set lists, I wouldn't doubt it.)


IN BRIEF: Peppy.

Truthfully, bands in electronic dance culture aren’t terribly new. It arguably all started with a four-piece act (Kraftwerk), and has seen many former rockers go digital over the years. Still, the general image most have of the live show revolves around one or two guys buried behind synths, sequencers, and laptops, with the occasional guitarist thrown into the mix. That all seems to be changing lately though; electroclash’s emergence and disco punk’s revival re-introduced clubbers to a whole world of indie music they’d long paid little heed to, and the little New York scene that DFA built has found its way into numerous pockets of the world in the years since. Now, you can even choose which sub-category of this genre of music you wish to proclaim as superior: dance-goes-rock (LCD Soundsytem; Justice) or rock-goes-dance (!!!; that silly ‘nu-rave’ thing Klaxons have going). Somewhere in the middle of it all lays Hot Chip.

Alexis Taylor and Joe Goddard make up the brains of this unlikely electro-soul-rave-wave-pop five-piece. Although obvious darlings of the hipster crowd, it was a few years before folks properly took notice. Their sophomore album The Warning certainly helped elevate their exposure, and bundles of buzz from their live shows on the festival circuit pretty much sealed the deal: anticipation and expectation on their third album would be difficult to match. So it’s just as well they forgot all that and settled on having fun with the creative process. At least, that’s what Made In The Dark sounds like.

Although Hot Chip’s flirted with a genre or two, this time they’ve stuck all their influences into a blender and added liberal amounts of pop to the mix. The result is something that’s at once chaotic and jumbled, yet super-fun just the same. These guys realize their studio (or rough approximation of one, since many of these songs were apparently conceived in Goddard’s apartment) is as much an instrument as all the guitars, synths, and tambourines they use. With such knowledge, an anything-goes mentality takes over, and the process can be sublime, provided it’s handled by musicians who remember to write music first, play with their toys second. And handle well they do indeed.

Granted, they don’t always succeed. Tracks like Bendable Poseable and Touch Too Much sound like Hot Chip needed someone reigning in all their ideas, as these overflow with excessive production; the good ideas lurking underneath are thus overshadowed. Fortunately, they’re the exceptions to Made In The Dark's general tone.

If anything, the group display an uncanny knack of making their unpredictability absolutely necessary. For example, One Pure Thought could be best described as house-music-meets-folk-rock. Yes, you read that right. Now, try to imagine Hot Chip doing without such a blend and settling on just a single influence, and chances are you’ve come away with something quaint but ultimately bland. Well, the chorus would still be good, but not as great as it is presented here.

The album is littered with such tracks. Shake A Fist, Hold On, and Don’t Dance are obviously heavily inspired by the club circuits, yet never strictly adhere to the expectations that come with that scene. Meanwhile, Out At The Pictures does the whole ‘big-disco-rock-band’ thing with winning results, while Ready For The Floor is an easy-breezy slice of crossover dance. And then there are the ballads. Good ballads!

Nearly a third of the album is dedicated to the softer side of music, and Hot Chip pulls it off with the grace of any crooner. Whether mopey musers (Whistle For Will), lovelorn lullabies (Made In The Dark; In The Privacy Of Our Love), or straight-up classy quirkfests (Wrestlers, a goofy call-to-arms rallying song inspired by, you guessed it, wrestling, with Hot Chip sounding about as threatening as a mid-80s WWF jobber ...just get a load of these lyrics: “Here we come; Drop kick; Half-Nelson; Full-Nelson; Willie Nelson... Willie Nelson.” Hilarious! ...well, if you were ever a fan of wrestling, that is ...okay, enough of this parenthesis tangent), these downtempo tunes showcase just how versatile this group is. All too often, ballads and dance music go together like oil and water in an album context (hence why ballads are usually lumped at the end whenever an act does attempt them), but Hot Chip display just as much skill in this field as they do in getting the dance floor energized.

Made In The Dark certainly is an album that will appeal to fans of many walks of music, and will undoubtedly get notice from several scenes. Heck, Metacritic alone has some thirty-five reviews available to check out, and that’s just covering the mainstream and indie-rock spreads. Even if your notion of ‘proper electronic dance music’ doesn’t hold much regard for an act that sometimes treats itself as a folk band more than techno sequencers, Hot Chip’s sense of rhythm and melody will win you over just the same.

Various - Macro Dub Infection, Volume 1

Virgin: 1995

Before he was turning dancehall heads as The Bug, Kevin Martin paid his flat money compiling a few CDs for Virgin Records. His first was the fourth volume of Virgin's double-disc ambient series showcasing acts from the genre's lengthy history, most of the prior volumes culling material from Virgin's own extensive back catalogue. Having exhausted all the familiar names though, they turned to Mr. Martin for his expertise on most things avant-garde, experimental, and dubby. Not sure what prompted Virgin’s show of faith in an oddball post-rocker, but his selections must have impressed the label enough to give him his own short-lived series, Macro Dub Infection. Or maybe Virgin just wanted in on that 'ambient dub house' trend The Orb spearheaded. Way to be late to the game, guys!

Still, Pre-Bug didn’t follow that rule by a long shot. Instead, he gathered up two CDs worth of dub-influenced music from across the electronic board. Some names and tunes are about as you’d expect from a compilation style-biting Beyond’s gimmick. Opener The Struggle Of Life from The Disciple hits all those classic ambient reggae-dub vibes, and other familiar jams from 2 Badcard, Rootsman, Automaton (Bill Laswell under his eight-zillionth alias) round out a first half of tunes most likely expected of a compilation titled Marcro Dub Infection. What’s that atmospheric jungle cut from Spring Heel Jack doing at the second position though? Yeah, there’s plenty of dubby affects at work in there, but no one said this was a drum ‘n’ bass collection too. Wait, Omni Trio’s on this as well? Pft, if you think that’s odd, get a load of classic industrial group Coil getting in on this action; not to mention indie post-rockers Tortoise, IDM wonk Bedouin Ascent, and ill trip-hoppers Skull vs. Ice. And that’s just CD1!

Frankly, ol’ Kev’ going off the proper deep end by showing off even the most tangently dub music out there (it’s an infection upon all musics!) is about the best way he could have put this together. Retreading the reggae-roots style so many others had before would be utterly redundant in 1995, and plenty others were filling in other aspects of dub (Planet Dog’s got the ethno-psy-dub covered, mang). Better to show off acts few would associate with the macro-genre while you have the chance.

Most interesting are the tracks by names that might have lured potential buyers based on chart recognition. The Paranormal In 4 Forms finds breaks pioneers 4 Hero running the gamut of ambient, trip-hop, jungle, and even classic techno in a span of eight minutes. Elsewhere on CD2, Tricky goes all weird abstraction with Ambient Pumpkin (oh hi, Goldfrapp). And I’ll take the ambient techno-dub style of Bandulu’s Come Forward any day, mainly because Macro Dub Infection’s the only place one can find this track.

In fact, there’s quite a few exclusives and rarities on this collection, just another of its selling points. Variety of music and extensive liner notes of dub’s history aren’t bad incentives either.

Cell - Hanging Masses

Ultimae Records: 2009

Of all Ultimae’s second-tier acts, Alexandre Scheffer’s project Cell has undoubtedly intrigued me the most. A regular contributor to the Fahrenheit Project, I think he earned Ace Track status on every single volume he had music on; heck, even on Part 5, where I stated the whole damn CD as ace, his Blue Embers was a highlight among highlights. Yet here we are, nearly half a decade since Cell dropped his first proper LP on Ultimae, and only now am I listening to Hanging Masses. If Mr. Scheffer’s music is as exceptional as I’ve claimed before, why’s it taken me so long to finally pick this up? Eh, likely for fear of disappointment, though given the track record of pretty much anyone releasing music on Ultimae, that should be the last concern.

More likely, he doesn’t release material at the same clip other Ultimae regulars have, so on the occasion I’ve splurged, it was easier buying the Pack deals rather than picking individual CDs. Sadly, Cell has no Pack option, but then he barely has any solo material on the label to begin with. In fact, his first album, Phonic Peace, came out in 2005, on the forgotten psy-chill label Indica Music, with several more tracks appearing on various downtempo labels – oddly almost all of the psy variety, given his music’s not terribly psy to begin with. Bottom line is scouring for every Cell tune out there isn’t easy, a slow deliberate process. Much like the music he makes, come to think of it. Oh hi, segueway!

I’ve mentioned Cell does ambient techno much like Carbon Based Lifeforms before, but he’s also restrained in his approach. For instance, after a bit of noodly drone and astral-chatter, opener Calling develops into subtle bleepy music accentuated with occasional haunting harmonizing pads. It doesn’t sound too removed from CBL’s early work, but whereas that duo would make such pad work a prominent, evolving feature, Cell keeps it understated. Yet, at no point does Calling feel lacking of melodic content either, everything in its right place with no need for grandiose moments. Really, when Mr. Scheffer presents us with music similar in arrangement but epic in scope with the titular cut, it almost comes off as overselling, so effective he is at spacey minimalism.

Hanging Masses is thus another difficult album to detail due to its relatively sparse tone. There are lovely synth harmonies in tracks like Second Shape, Part 2 and Universal Sunrise (ooh, I sense Solar Fields influence in there), quiet introspective delicacy with Vapor, and even mildly up-tempo moments with Risky Nap Under Blue Tree and the Aes Dana collaboration Switch Off. Overall though, my best description is as above: if you’re familiar with Carbon Based Lifeforms, you’re familiar with Cell. Don’t let that lead you to think Hanging Masses is some, erm, carbon-clone. While sharing similar aesthetics, Cell explores the subtle side of ambient techno, abstraction without ever diving deep into IDM’s wankier tendencies. Good music for those weaned on Namlook.

Miktek - Elsewhere

Ultimae Records: 2013

Despite pushing talent other than their core roster in the late ‘00s, it wasn’t long before Ultimae fell back on its usual standbys. To be fair, crafting albums of the nuanced richness the label supports does take time, made more so by the glacial rate anything gets released on the label. That another fallow period of fresh faces would follow isn’t too surprising, but we may be on the verge of another wave of releases from ‘second-tier acts’. Live albums from Circular and Hol Baumann came out last year, while I Awake just released another single. Two other artists, whom had prior material out on other labels, also joined the Ultimae roster, Lars Leonhard and Miktek. Both appeared on last year’s Oxycanta III compilation (holy cow, it took over half a decade to for a follow-up!), and while the former got a digi-EP release, Miktek got the full album treatment, making it the only such proper LP to come out on the label last year (Solar Fields’ Origin #2 and Aes Dana’s Aftermath 2.0 were more b-side collections). Glacial indeed, and so’s the music on this album. My God, that was a long paragraph.

Right, Miktek. This was the word I heard pitched down in some old tech-house record. No, wait, was it in a Frankie Bones techno single? Actually, I think it’s a shortened name-variation of the man behind the project, one Mihalis Aikaterinis as known on Greece passports. He’s released a number of ambient and IDM tunes on Greek experimental netlabel 33 Recordings, and self-released a pair of albums too; so some time in the trenches before joining up with Ultimae. He definitely offers a different style of downtempo for the label, though it may not be immediately apparent.

While they’ve dabbled in the realm of ambient techno, drone, and glitch, Ultimae, erm, ultimately remains a part of the psy-chill scene. The music on Elsewhere is quite removed from that, however. There’s more of a laptop, melancholy shoegaze tone throughout, and having track titles like Magnificent Desolation, Song Of The Burning Mountain, and False Dawn certainly help sell the mood. Gee, Ultimae, why so down of a sudden? There’s been somber moments in the past, no doubt, but Elsewhere gets downright lonesome at times.

Most interestingly, that trademark panoramic production is relatively absent here. While many of the backing synths sound full, they’re also distant, like gazing upon landscapes just obscured by fog. The rhythms, mostly on a gentle ambient dub bent, are incredibly simplistic, lacking thick texture that’s common in many Ultimae releases. Yet given Miktek’s style, Elsewhere wouldn’t work with the traditional Ultimae Mixdown™, a stripped aesthetic crucial in creating feelings of melancholic detachment.

Similar albums conjure specific emotional responses and memories; see my review of Vector Lovers’ iPhonica for examples. Miktek’s music is broader, more like a canvas than specific imagery, which does fit the Ultimae manifesto. Go figure the label felt it was missing the bleak side of such soundscapes, but here we are.

I Awake - The Core

Ultimae Records: 2008

For much of Ultimae's history, the debut of any act on their label isn't that artist's first solo release. Some have had Ultimae compilation duty prior, while others offered music on other labels. Thomas Huttenlocher's one of the few exceptions, dropping his first single Birth on Ultimae in 2007, then following that up with a full-length titled The Core the year after. Unless Lord Discogs is being dishonest with me, he had no other material out before then. The bio write-up mentions he was a part of a Swedish ambient collective called Ghostfriend, but the Lord draws even blanker on such a name than Mr. Huttenlocher. What I’m getting at here is, if this I Awake material truly was his debut, then damn dawg, I gotta applaud him in getting the Ultimae blessing (re: the Ultimae Mixdown™) right out the gate. Not many chill acts are so lucky, so this I Awake material must be something special to grab the label’s attention thus.

Well, I don’t know about that, but The Core did come out when Ultimae was in the process of releasing albums from artists outside their main roster - one can enjoy the Solar Fields and Aes Dana stylee for so long before asking if the label has any other chill on offer. With I Awake, we get the old-school, Planet Dog “technorganic” sound. Hoo, remember that term, anyone? It wasn’t any sort of ambient dub or world beat that’d come before, oh no; rather, a fusion of the two, with a psychedelic twist. Okay, it’s essentially psy-dub in its primordial form, but it was a distinct sound that fell by the wayside when Simon Posford’s work as Shpongle informed everyone that that was how psy-dub was to be done thereafter (what is Posford, the Hawtin of psy?).

So The Core features ample use of nature samples, worldly beats, organic instrumentation, and dubby soundscapes, but with modern production chops. You find full-bodied bass sequences in New Time Nomads, Neveritized, and Leaving The Known, occasional glitch rhythms spicing things up throughout, and nary a cliché use of ethnic vocals. All of which is naturally mastered with the trademark Ultimae panoramic touch. In a funny way, I feel this robs Huttenlocher of his distinctiveness among the roster. Instead of having a fresh, unique sound hanging with the big boys, he gets mushed into the soup along with everyone else. And sadly, as I Awake doesn’t carry nearly the same pedigree as Carbon Based Lifeforms or Asura (etc, etc.), The Core becomes lost among all the top-tiered acts.

This is another rich album of chill-out music from the label, of that there is no doubt. With track durations of reasonable length, few noodly bits crop up, and moods run the gamut from bright and exotic (Leaving The Known, Inferno) to dark and mysterious (Reflecting Impulses, Reclaim). I Awake may not carry the recognition of Ultimae’s all-stars, but he must be doing something right if the label got dibs on his debut.

Markus Schulz - Coldharbour Sessions 2004

Armada Music: 2004

An ear turning cynical isn’t difficult upon realizing the Grand Armada Marketing Plan. By 2004, Armin was pushing his brand from internet darling to global domination, but he’s a savvy one, that van Buuren. He couldn’t corner every potential market with just his own, preferred style of epic, uplifting trance. Why, some folks actually considered it cheesy, unserious music! They wanted something deeper, of more substance and nuanced; groovy like progressive house, but not the dark, minimalist tribal stuff Digweed and his brethren were pushing as the ‘nu-prog’. Fortunately for Armin, there was a chap who had no problem promoting a style of prog that could act as that branch, offering deeper rhythms folks with ‘matured’ tastes craved, but retaining enough melodic hookiness such that they need not wander into the untested waters of tech-house. That man was Peter Martin, also known as Anthanasia.

Okay, it’s really Markus Schulz, but damn, Perfect Wave shows up again on this Coldharbour Sessions mix, possibly making it the biggest McProg anthem of all time – the genre’s Age Of Love, so to speak. Well, maybe not.

Anyhow, this was Mr. Schulz’ proper opening statement with his new direction of sound, after remaining stuck in the underground years prior. Following this DJ mix, he’d establish his own Coldharbour Recordings (an offshoot of Armada, naturally), cultivating his accessible form of prog, thus winning him a legion of cultish fans to this day; the Grand Armada Marketing Plan unfolds. Alright, enough cynicism from me, as I must admit I didn’t pick this up for another one of my retrospective projects. Nay, I bought it because, um... I’m kinda growing fond of this sound.

I wasn’t against it back in the day, but all the related aggressive promotion caused a dismissive knee-jerk reaction from me. A decade later though, no one’s promoting this sound anymore, so it’s easier taking the music on its own merits. And yes, all the criticisms one can levy against McProg are here, although as we’re in the genre’s infancy, very little comes off too cliché. The low, grumbly basslines are ever present (especially in any of Schulz’ Coldharbour Remixes), occasionally some sap seeps in (almost always whenever a vocal comes about ...fuck Satellite, no matter the remix), and ol’ Markus nearly succumbs to ‘breakdown overload’ with the opening of Disc 2; beyond that, however, there’s little I can find fault with on Coldharbour Sessions 2004 within its own merits.

Heck, a couple tunes even bring late-‘90s prog-house to light (Junk Science’s Jataka, Luke Chabel’s remix of Matsumoto & DJ Yoshi’s Dreamer), while others offer themselves as pleasant Balearic or vocal numbers (wow, Elevation’s Somewhere’s harrowing). Perfect Wave aside, many familiar tunes are remixed to fit Schulz’ style, finding its groove early and maintaining it throughout. Despite lacking much in challenging music, it’s all perfectly pleasant, deep-trance vibes, and none too stale at this early stage. Coldharbour Sessions 2004 definitely deserves some props for that ten years on. Still, Schulz ain’t no Chris Fortier.

Jean-Michel Jarre - Chronologie

CD-Maximum: 1993/2000

So maybe I wasn't so far off in assuming Chronologie was Jean-Michel Jarre's attempt at a clubland-crossover after all. That's all it truly was when I first wrote the review for Jarremix, an assumption based on remixes of the singles and watching the Chronologie 4 video (so early '90s!). Had I properly digested all of the Frenchman’s discography before hand, I might have gleaned a clearer perspective, but as it stood I was working off the major hits. Heck, the only reason I picked up Jarremix back in the day was it was one of the few trancey albums I stumbled upon. I had no idea who ol' Jean was at that point, and even after enjoying that collection, it was many moons before Monsieur Jarre's legacy came into focus for yours truly. We all start somewhere though, and now that I have the spending cash to dig in properly, it's time to start up the Jarre collection.

Seeing as how the Chronologie remixes were my introduction, I figured it appropriate to make this album one of the first purchases (along with the only Jean-Michel Jarre album you're supposed to have, even if you're not much of a fan of Jean-Michel Jarre – but that one's all the way down in the 'O's). Chronologie 4 was also the tune that let me stop worrying and accept ol’ Jean’s sappier tendencies. Make no mistake, for as many sublime moments in his discography, Jarre has also gone full synth-pop fromage too, and anything of that sort released in the ‘90s just couldn’t hold up.

That was my long-time thoughts anyway, but the wonderful world of post-millennium space synth made me realize something: Chronologie 4 is totally space synth, in fact an expertly crafted example of such. Those charmingly dated synth tones, pumping rhythms that have you cruising the cosmos, and gloriously epic melodies, it’s what nearly all modern space synth composers strive for. Of course, this is a retroactive classification, but there it is.

That’s just one track though. The first half of Chonologie has Jarre doing the modern classical thing, including an eleven minute opener, while Part 2 ups the tempo with peppy synth-pop rhythms and church organs, sounding like his earlier works. The back half is far more early-‘90s in tone, and aside from Part 6’s groovy house vibe, is hilariously dated, especially so Part 5 and Part 8, what with hip-hop beats, freestyle orchestral-hits and fake record scratches! Dear Lord, Part 8’s what’s played during the credits of a bad comedy.

It was a poor end the original album, but in the year 2000, a Russian label got the distribution rights and, attempting to entice those who’d already bought Chronologie, included a slew of remixes of classic Jarre! Eh, cheap studio knock-offs, more like. There’s a few tracks I know in the list (Oxygene , Magnetic Fields, Calypso, etc.), and none hold a candle to the remixes found on Jarremix. Impossibly high standards set for Jarre remixes, that album did.

Krusseldorf - Bohemian Groove

Beats & Pieces: 2010

I never ordered this, nor did I find it in a CD shop (pft, as if those exist in Vancouver now); rather, it came bundled with my last Ultimae splurge. Wow, not only does the always-ace chill label include great music, classy digipaks, cool postcards, bookmarks, and incense, but now free CDs too? This is better than radio promos other labels offer: it's a proper LP from an established artist! Okay, it was likely a packaging error (though I wasn't missing anything), so it’s not a big deal. Still, never look a gift horse in the mouth, right? Uh, that’s kinda what I’m supposed to be doing at this blog though.

Anyhow, Krusseldorf goes by Simon Heath on his passport, while others still may know him as dark ambient project Atrium Carceri. I haven’t heard that one, though his recent Sabled Sun off-shoot looks interesting, further exploration of dark ambient but with a sci-fi twist (“in space, no one can hear the synth drone”). In either case, it’s a far cry from what we get on Bohemian Groove, essentially a psy-dub album. Guess that makes sense if Ultimae had this floating around. I’m not sure if this is the established Krusseldorf sound or just a one-off, but considering all his other releases at Lord Discogs suggests the likes of Shpongle and Ott (to say nothing of Ultimae regulars), I’ll trust my instincts; a psy-dub album, then.

Even before throwing this on, I was leery. It’s a genre that can hit some exhilarating highs, yet is seldom achieved by only but the most frequently name-dropped. Too many producers are content to sound like Posford or Bluetech without adding a fresh twist on the template, and matters aren’t helped when they lack comparable studio gear. As Mr. Heath additionally works a studio engineering gig, you’d think he’d make a good showing if it, but nay, the music on Bohemian Groove, while spacious, comes off just as plastic as most average psy-chill acts.

Right, it’s partly my fault here for listening to a chunk of CDs with the Ultimae Mixdown™ recently. And if space synth has taught me anything, who cares about quality of sound so long as the musical craft holds. The first couple tracks off Bohemian Groove are fine, though not terribly challenging where psy-dub arrangements are concerned. Third track Inbound raised a few red flags, however, and fourth cut Nobs is just… oh dear, it’s psy-muzak. Never have I heard such a listless, saccharine tune in this genre, and Lord help me I hope to never hear it again.

That sadly soured my initial impressions of the rest of this album, but I’ve softened since. Most of it settles into a blissy, comfortable psy-dub groove, the plastic sheen even turning charming after a while (yay clickity-glitch rhythms). Occasional instrument choices may lift an eyebrow (no, guitars, no), but nothing dire. Still, Bohemian Groove is conceptually so middle-of-the-road for psy-chill, it’s stuck at the fork in a highway. What nonsensical metaphor?

Connect.Ohm - 9980

Ultimae Records: 2012

A curious one, this. Connect.Ohm is a collaboration between Alexandre Scheffer and Hidetoshi Koizumi. They more commonly go by Cell and Hybrid Leisureland, respectively, and aren’t exactly Ultimae regulars. They’ve certainly contributed many tracks to various compilations, and have also released an album or two through the label, but they are by no means exclusive in the same way Solar Fields and Carbon Based Lifeforms are. Still, they must have curried enough good will with Mr. Villuis for him to indulge them with a collaborative LP on his label. There wasn’t even any pre-release single or exclusive compilation cut leading up to 9980, at least nothing I’m aware of officially. Maybe a sneak-peak podcast, but I wouldn’t know of it; I don’t do podcasting.

For those not in the know, Cell tends to explore ambient techno along the lines of CBL, whereas Hybrid Leisureland is what you’d get if Harold Budd was from Japan, and with more pads than pianos. Not sure if I’d go so far as to say something cliché like this is a match made in heaven (…wait), but minimalistic ambient-scapes can work with anything, and Scheffer and Koizumi liked each other’s mojo enough to merge their styles.

The result is about what you’d expect from such a pairing: low key, subtle, spacious, and occasional rhythms that are barely a pulse, although the opener Evolution 1:1 settles into a typical ambient dub groove. Mmm, feel those restrained bass drops as you float on grey clouds. It’s also about as upbeat as 9980 gets, though subsequent ‘rhythmic’ tracks work their own unique pace too. Titular cut 9908 indulges in glitch, while Mol comes off like Solar Fields with its charming melodies and gentle harmonies. Fossil gets deeper into dub rhythms, and Take Off goes a tad tribal. Mind, the rhythmic differences between these tunes are marginal, but when dealing with such minimalism, it’s all I’ve to work with.

Still, this is an ambient album through and through. With tracks an average of seven-to-nine minutes in length, you bet we have some noodly bits going on, not to mention good ol’ ‘laptop drone’. Second track Snow Park sure takes its sweet time developing, three minutes passing before even a hint of rhythm or melody emerge. And even when it does, it’s but a faint whisper of piano and bleepy backings. What keeps you engaged are those harmonizing pads, gradually building upon each other. Yet whereas most producers opt for a rapturous climax, Snow Park gently ebbs away, a brief bit of extra piano the closest we get to a proper peak. Other ambient pieces like Gentle Perception and Time To Time By Time work in similar fashion.

By the end of final, planetarium track Winter Sorrows, however, the common criticism of nearly all ambient albums of this nature also rears its head with 9980: music amounting to little more than pleasant fluff. True, but with a good pair of headphones, is it ever exquisite, pleasant fluff.

A Rule Alteration Going Forward

*Whew* That's the 'L's finished, and thus I'm at about the mid-point through this insane listening/blogging project. While I'm by no means halfway completed going through everything I have (much less if I decide to restart at the beginning to accommodate the first few letters for completion's sake), this does at least mark the mid-point of the alphabet (including numerical titles as one 'letter') - and no, 'Q' barely counts in this project, trust me on that.

It also creates a slight problem with Rule #1, whereby anytime I purchase something new that falls behind in my alphabetical list, that release goes to the front of the queue. This wasn't such a big deal when I was dealing with but a few letters, but I'm now facing half an alphabet, and growing longer with each completed letter, thus the potential backlog list increasing with each new bundle I buy (as you'll see shortly), which I feel gums up my regular progress.

So, a modification of Rule #1. Instead of automatically listening and reviewing new purchases as they arrive, they'll remain in a 'to-review' pile until I've made at least half-progress through a current letter. For instance, as I've just finished 'L', I'll now review my alphabetical backlog, then carry on through 'M'. Upon finishing up through the mid-point of 'M' - in this case, 'Mi' - I'll go through the backlog again, and so on. This also gives me the chance to properly digest new material instead of jumping into them so cold.

That's all on this small update. Time to go identify minerals for marks.

µ-Ziq - Lunatic Harness

Virgin: 1997

Aphex Twin was the king of IDM. Squarepusher was the revolutionary (yes, even among revolutionaries). µ-Ziq was the guy that got to hang out with them, taking on their styles, even carving out his own niche in the process. The man from Planet Mu never quite hit their highs, though during the ‘electronica’ boom, I’m sure some record executives figured they’d have another Come To Daddy success on their hands by signing Mike Paradinas. Virgin plucked the µ-Ziq man up for his fourth full-length, and the results were about as you’d expect an IDM wonk making a crossover: charming, challenging, seductive, abhorrent, and just plain nuts.

Right off the first track, Brace Yourself Jason, you can hear the lineage: frenetic jazz-fusion rhythms that made Tom Jenkinson such a darling with fans of challenging techno, coupled with those ambient pads that made many a Rickity Da Jam-Man tune sound so utterly alien. It’s a cool track, though not really distinctive of µ-Ziq - not that I know exactly what is Paradinas’ distinct sound, as I’ve only two albums worth, including this one. If I’d make a guess, however, he shows more love for the classical side of IDM, the sort of music inspired by Mozart and the like (say, would Amadeus be an IDM wonk of his era?). Many of the subsequent tracks feature cute, elegant melodies as played on synths that one suspects were formerly in the hands of modern classicalist composers of the ‘70s. Not an entirely unique approach to music-making then, but definitely innovative when complemented with equally infantile hip-hop rhythms.

Wait, wasn’t this supposed to be a crossover album (probably not)? Very well, here’s some of that trendy ‘drum and bass’ stuff, though clearly on the agro-tip with Approaching Menace. This tune’s what it would have sounded like if Dillinja really went fucking evil; less bass-bin punishment, more feral nastiness, and all distortion on those snares. In case that’s too much for you, µ-Ziq offers a few pleasant atmospheric tunes as a follow-up, bridging the gap between IDM’s breakcore and jungle’s amen breaks.

The back end of Lunatic Harness is mostly experimental stuff, including aggravating industrial-noise nonsense in Wannabe, a total Aphex Twin jump with London, and some orchestral glitch to finish off in Midwinter Log (I bet Lodsb was paying attention). Thus wraps up my generic recap of what goes down in this album.

There’s a great deal of variety here; unfortunately, it doesn’t make for much of a cohesive listen. That’s often a problem with these IDM full-lengths: the producers have so many ideas bubbling in their wacky heads, they’ll struggle crafting an LP that can be enjoyed front-to-back. The classics are obviously the exceptions, and while Lunatic Harness was well-received by this particular scene, it’s remained in the realms of EDM niche to this day. Still, I can’t think of a better µ-Ziq album to get your feet wet with. Give it a shot if you’re curious about Mr. Paradinas’ output.

Sounds From The Ground - Luminal

Waveform Records: 2004

After jumping around labels for their first decade as Sounds From The Ground, Jones and Woolfson finally settled on Waveform to handle most of their distribution upon releasing Luminal. It also started off a sort-of trilogy on their part, exploring all that one can explore within the realm of ambient dub. I've already covered two here, Brightwhitelight and High Rising. And now we've come to the end, at the beginning. Huh, who'd have thought I'd do this in reverse. In a nutshell, the duo was a bit all over the place for their first few releases, which likely explains their label jumping too. More recently, they've explored darker downtempo, glitch and drone, but I'll get to that's for reviews much later on. Figures in the middle of this career they’d settle into a comfortable rhythm.

As Luminal was the first in this trilogy, it doesn't quite reach the highs of High Rising. For what it's worth, though, I find this one more interesting than Brightwhitelight. There's still some of the duo's acid jazz background cropping up (they'd released another album but two years prior on Ninja Tune sub-label Nu-Tone), so it’s not all ambient dub all the time. Heck, opener Stampede wouldn’t sound out of place on a Thievery Corporation album, sans occasional galloping horse samples. In fact, if you’re at all familiar with Thiev-Corp’s first album, Sounds From The Thievery Hi-Fi (and shame on you if you’re not), you’ll find yourself in familiar territory with the first couple tracks off Luminal.

After that though, it’s proper dub t’ings. Whether with cascading synth washes in Razz and Poems, smoky reggae roots in Tumbledown and Ten Tons Of Dope, funky upbeat numbers like Burning Bright and London Fields (which includes a lengthy intro of ambient pad bliss), or a soulful jam with Move On, the thick bass and spacious reverb is in full effect. Yep, Luminal definitely sounds good for a mid-‘00s Sounds From The Ground album. Yessir, it does. So... um, how’s things with you?

Look, there’s little more to say on this one. Everything I can say about how this album sounds, I’ve covered in the other two reviews I mentioned above. I’ve plumb run out of things now, and I fear it’s selling Luminal short. Hell, I’m selling ambient dub as a viable genre short, aren’t I? Guess it can’t be helped. Like so many branches in music, sometimes a genre will have stronger connection to a listener than others and, for whatever reason, ambient dub hits that sweet spot for yours truly, despite the simplistic nature much of its produced in. For others, it might be minimal deep-tech, others still dub techno or noodly drone. I can vibe on some of those too, yet more often than not, this is my go-to sound, nicely presented from the ground.

I do give Luminal a recommendation if you’re even a casual fan of blissy downtempo vibes, but it ain’t a big deal if you pass on it either.

Juno Reactor - Luciana

Metropolis: 1994/2008

It's just what you had to do, back in the '90s. For whatever reason, to be taken as a serious auteur within electronic music, an album's worth of ambient noodling was a necessary addition to your discography. Most of the time it was as a side project, likely in collaboration with Pete Namlook or Dr. Alex Paterson, and Ben Watkins was no exception, getting chummy enough with Mr. Orb to release this here Luciana as a second album. Goodness, shooting for artistic greatness but a year after Transmission. Was anyone even aware of Juno Reactor's existence, beyond the incredibly young goa trance scene?

Maybe not, but ol' Alex had a new label, Inter-Modo, and he needed some fresh material to promote it with. The self-titled album from ambient 'super-group' FFWD was the first and Luciana became the second. The third album was from Autocreation, then the label promptly folded. Huh, guess Dr. Paterson was a might bit too distracted to maintain such a label, the result of which creating incredible scarcity of these three originals, and stupid-inflated prices to procure a copy. Well, until Metropolis fucked things up and re-released Luciana for a reasonable sum of coinage. Weep, oh ye' Juno fans who sprung fifty bones and a leg on Ebay for the original. Weep for our smug amusement.

I do wonder if some did back in the day upon receiving this for overblown value. For as rare as this particular album once was, rare ambient albums are rather common, at least in terms of number crafted, if not quantity released. There’s tons of this stuff out there, and unless you’re a dedicated collector, much of it perfectly skippable. One can only take so much noodly synth pad work and dithering sampling before it all blends together into mushy ambient soup. Maybe if something totally unique went down in the creation of such pieces – say, produced live with ‘70s gear bought second-hand from Tangerine Dream, inside a derelict outpost on Edgeøya at the Spring Equinox – it’d be worth such investment. I rather doubt Luciana is one such example though.

Even for minimalist dark ambient drone, this single track does drag at sixty-one plus minutes in length. It certainly shows Mr. Watkins’ industrial roots, all menacing, brooding soundscapes and disconcerting synths weaving in and out as a pulsing, mechanical throb guides you through a desolate landscape. I imagine this is what would be playing while riding that monorail in Stephen King’s third Dark Tower novel. Occasionally a vocal chant comes out, other times a squealing animal (mutated whale calls?) or a patch of dialog, but by and large the same bleak mood is maintained throughout.

Luciana’s an interesting piece, for sure, and Juno Reactor fans well certainly get a kick out of it, Watkins demonstrating quite a bit of musical potential even at this early stage. Still, it’s little more than an ‘ambient b-side’ to the Juno Reactor discography, hardly a critical item to have for the casuals.

The Shamen - LSI (Love Sex Intelligence)

Epic: 1992

The Shamen were a pretty big deal in the UK, one of those seminal bands of the British acid house wave that many talk of reverentially. For the longest time though, I couldn't understand why – Hell, I still struggle with it. Maybe it's just bad luck on my part, my first exposure to them primarily the chart action goofy shit like Ebeneezer Goode and Destination Eschaton; it'd be like only knowing The Beatles by Yellow Submarine and Ob La Di, Ob La Da. This here LSI (Love Sex Intelligence) single sure didn't help convince me of The Shamen's legacy, plucked from a used store shelf in the hope of learning what the big deal was.

The lead single off Boss Drum, them boys of The Shamen have a message here, yo'. Sex, it can be dangerous if you don't know what you're doing, mang, 'cause everybody be gettin' AIDS an' shit (...wait, wrong decade). So be smart about your hook-ups – even better, hook-up for love, not party-induced lustiness. It'll be better for the heart and soul in the long outlook, isn't that right? Yeah... yeah. Or, I dunno, I barely pay attention to the lyrics, as redundantly repetitive as they are. Maybe they were pressured into doing a 'positive sex education' single, to show that they weren't all about mashy rave bedlam as the press would have you believe. And when the UK media still wasn't buying it, go all in with Ebeneezer Goode.

Okay, good message, but oddly dated to the early ‘90s despite, for all intents, it should be timeless. Maybe it’s just the delivery, or because the smash-hit sex education single of that time, Salt-N-Pepa’s Let’s Talk About Sex, draws every similar tune into its sphere of association.

Enough words, let’s get into the music proper. The original is UK acid house, including little trance-voice plucks for a hook and a chuggy rhythm. Erm, not progressive house though, as it’s too brief and clearly aimed at the charts. Maybe one of the remixes would tap that genre, but if it did, the US version never got it. Instead we get the requisite House Remix (done by The Beatmasters, of course), another House Remix care of E-Smoove (a bit more garage on this one), the requisite Techno Remix provided by Ed Richards, and the requisite Rave Remix by Frank De Wulf. Yep, I believe that’s all the markets covered, at least where America was concerned. Maybe the Germans got a Trance Remix on their copies. They’re all functional tools for the time, and I can’t see anyone needing them in their arsenal these days, beyond a “hey, remember The Shamen?” moment in a set. And even then, LSI is one of the last tracks I can think of getting such a rinse-out.

The Shamen put out quite a few clever productions in their time. Sadly, LSI isn’t one of them, and figures I’d end up with a dull collection of remixes at that. The search continued...

Speedy J - Loudboxer

NovaMute: 2002

I honestly haven’t a clue who was responsible for it. Bolland? Bones? Mills? It was Hawtin, wasn’t it. Every trend in techno always leads back to Hawtin somehow, dictating how the genre at large “should” be done when things were perfectly fine before. Well, whoever started this particular trend, it matters little. By the turn of the millennium, bangin’ techno was all the rage, indeed the default sound everyone associated the genre at the time. Not that I blame folks for getting in on that action: delicious percolating drum kits rolling out at upwards of 140bpm, dark atmospheres tricking your head into believing them looped rhythms were saying actual words, and all that. So much energy, so much awesome, a welcome road to roam when all you want is to submit to the machine beat until 8am. Oh dear, I’m losing my humanity, get me out of this warehouse! Ahem...

By 2002, the sound was in full swing, names like Adam Beyer and Chris Liebing kings of this sort of bangin’, loop techno. In a surprising move for a guy with an already eclectic career, one Jochem George Paap, more commonly known as Speedy J (a very important person in the world of techno), jumped on it too. Keep in mind most of his ‘90s output found him further exploring Detroit’s approach to techno (the one true approach), or indulging in IDM experiments (another true approach). This here Loudboxer is quite far from either, stripping things down to tribal basics, and never relenting until the final track sings.

An LP of two-halves, the first is the warm-up. Opener Reenter is almost dub techno, the following tracks maintaining that spacious sound, especially so in Freq. There’s little fancy here, each successive track adding another layer of rhythmic intensity, drums, snares, hi-hats and whatever else you may have at the forefront of everything. Honestly, detailing specific tracks is almost pointless, each little more than tools in service of the set. Yep, we’re in Decks, EFX & 909 territory here (I told you everything comes back to Hawtin), though in this case at least Mr. Paap creates his own loops rather than ‘recontextualizes’ existing material. For proof, check out the vinyl release of Loudboxer, two-hundred (!!) loops of techno bedlam for all your DJing needs.

There’s a brief interlude titled Inter Zil, then we’re off to the races, ol’ Jochem showing little restraint as pounding kicks and choking machinery relentlessly pummel you. In a cheeky yet brilliant moment, a live recording of Krikc erupts from the white-noise build of Bugmod. It’s an effective way of sucking the listener into believing they’re hearing Loudboxer out in a proper setting, cheering with the crowd, despite all other stimuli proving otherwise. Even in the waning moments of final track Pannik, where things go quiet until the drumbeat is little more than a heartthrob, you long to be in a warehouse or club for this music. Still, a CD’s worth will suffice …for now.

Spicelab - Lost In Spice

Planet Earth Recordings: 1993/1994

Of all Oliver Lieb’s albums, I have to say his debut Spicelab LP, Lost In Spice, must be his oddest. Not for its raw production or lack of typical Lieb trance, but for how boshing basic some of the rhythms are. No matter what genre he’s explored, Lieb’s craftsmanship with drums kits and basslines always kept him a step above his peers. Here though, you get near-gabber beats in Cold Chillin’, coming at you a blistering 160bpm. It’s more of a hard acid techno track, the sort of sound you might have heard Spiral Tribe kicking out around the same time. Yet hearing it must be like what Tiësto fans feel when hearing Da Joker.

Even more baffling is making it nearly seventeen minutes long. What’s he trying to do, create the progressive rock version of hard acid techno? I suppose Cold Chillin’ has enough neat sounds going for it to just make it worth the duration – sci-fi zaps, snarling TB-303 basslines, peppy synth hooks, percussion and cymbals that crescendo as industrial blocks clank in the background. It just seems overkill for a track of this nature. All well, ol’ Oliver always claimed his Spicelab material was intended for more experimental stuff, and if he wanted to open this album with ‘experimental hard acid bosh’, so be it.

The other tracks on here are closer in tune to the early Spicelab sound, with many distinctive traits that defined many Lieb productions (spacey synth pads, those claps…). Second cut Spicelab is a slow builder, working an eerie mood befitting of such a dark cover while even more bleeps n’ bloops come and go. There are more instances of hooks found, though no real melody until a rapturous breakdown some two-thirds through, where the rhythm essentially leaves for the rest of the track for more sci-fi soundscapes. It’s like you’ve been cruising through underground industrial tunnels, only to surface into a b-movie or ‘80s anime alien world. Have I mentioned the sounds Lieb uses are dated in a quirky retro way?

The B-side of this CD is similar, in that The Last Supernova is another 160bpm blistering cut with weird sound effects, though with more reliance on tinnier percussion and those sweeping synths also found in Spicelab classics like Amorph and Spice Is A Fulltime Occupation. The titular cut at the end is more like the eponymous cut, in that there’s more build, proper hooks and melody, plus distinct sections that evolve from what came before (almost an extended version of Quicksand, really). Also included with the American version is The Spirit Of Fear, a darker take on the same formula.

Lost In Space is undeniably rough around the edges, especially compared to Lieb’s future Spicelab and L.S.G. songwriting. For an early ‘90s techno LP though, it’s damn ambitious, and definitely a positive sign that ol’ Oliver would have himself a remarkable career in the following two decades. Not bad for a German making New Beat but two years prior.

Doc Scott - Lost In Drum N' Bass

DMC Publishing Ltd.: 1996/1998

Amazingly, you can DJ various sub-genres of drum n’ bass in a given set. It’s rare, as most jungle micro-scenes prefer sticking to their chosen sound through and through. Occasionally though, a set offers a broader range of what one might find in the wide sonic world of 'deebee'; even rarer, one that showcases damn near everything.

Right, compared to the branches that scene splintered into at the turn of the millennium, there wasn’t much ‘everything’ in jungle by the mid-‘90s. I maintain it’s mighty impressive of early ‘ardcore veteran Doc Scott to pull together what was out there on Lost In Drum N’ Bass. Originally titled Breakbeat Experiments and released as part of Mixmag’s tape order-in promotional series Mixmag Live!, it found a re-issue in CD form shortly after. This wasn’t surprising, as Mixmag Live! did this for several tapes. Finding proper American distribution, however, hardly occurred, and when they did, it was primarily due to an American name on the cover (Moby, Hawtin, Derrick Carter, etc). Guess Moonshine, who oversaw DMC’s promotion here, figured those were the only selling names in our market. Oh ye’ of little faith, Moonshine.

By 1996, and the darkside of jungle old began waning, the stripped-down sound of tech-step the new hotness. Meanwhile, atmospheric jungle and jazzstep were gaining critical plaudits, but clearly miles away in tone and approach from the aggressive basslines of Technical Itch Studios. Not so, says Doc Scott, bringing the polar opposites of the drum ‘n’ bass scene together in fine fashion.

After opening with the jazzy atmospherics of Jonny L and Krust, we’re treated to the smooth-as-silk Lemon D. Remix of Art Of Noise’s Eye Of The Needle. Yes, that Art Of Noise, odd-ball ‘80s synth-poppers galore. Apparently there was a drum ‘n’ bass remix album of the band’s material released that year, which just goes to show how much the scene was making waves in the UK.

After all that pleasantness, Mr. McIlroy (!) brings out the harder stuff, including Dillinja’s bassbin demolishing Threshold (how many times have I said that about Dillinja?) and Adam F’s Metropolis, it no slouch in offering the rough business. A bit more of the dark stuff follows with Scott’s own Shadow Boxing (as Nasty Habits), then we’re back to jazzy, atmospheric d’n’b again. Yep, instead of continually piling on the aggressive sounds, Doc instead opts for a long ease out. How long? The first track of the final stretch is Krust’s Brief Encounter (12 Minutes), and there’s still four more tracks after that of similar ilk, Decoder’s jump-up Circuit Breaker the only surprising detour among Omni Trio and Jonny L (again).

I won’t deny being disappointed in Lost In Drum N’ Bass when I first heard it, but that’s because I was young, dumb, and only interested in the dark and hard (...wait). Of course, I appreciate Doc Scott’s offering far more now, for its uniqueness as a d’n’b mix CD along as a strong collection of tunes of the era.

The Bug - London Zoo (Original TC Review)

Ninja Tune: 2008

(2014 Update:
Oh dear, is poor, poor 2008 Sykonee ever unaware of what else was happening in dubstep, outside the MetaCritic narrative anyway. Little did I know it would be tracks by Rusko, Coki, and Benga, seemingly novelty wub-wub cuts, that would dominate dubstep's future. Fortunately, acts like Burial, Martyn, and even The Bug were retroactively reclassified as other branches of UK garage, thus properly being distanced by fans and commentators from all the bro-drop nonsense to follow. Guess that dates this review a little, in that it was still that transitional phase where lines were being drawn, but had I been following dubstep's development from the beginning, I'd have known of these differences already. Yeah, well, it took most American-side folks even longer than it did your's truly to figure it out, and I was just beginning to give it a chance in 2008. No blame.

Kevin Martin hasn't been terribly busy on the production front since releasing London Zoo, a smattering of singles all to his name. Following up such a critically hailed album must hold some pressure on the long-time UK dancehall tastemaker, but if he continues down the acid road as he explored with last year's Hardcore Lover, here's hoping another ace LP is in the works.)


IN BRIEF: Delightfully deviant dancehall.

A year ago, a then anonymous Burial helped propel a then anonymous young genre called dubstep into wide recognition. His sophomore effort, Untrue, was not only hailed as a classic by those within its scene, but by nearly everyone who came within earshot of it as well. And something that I’m sure no one could have ever predicted, it sits atop the best albums of 2007 at Metacritic (interestingly, sharing the spot with The Field’s From Here We Go Sublime; who said electronic music was dead?). Surely though, that was just a once-in-a-blue-moon occurrence. After all, dubstep itself is far too urban, simplistic, and London-based to have any real impact beyond its core fans of jungle refugees, spliff-heads, and inner-city stylists, right?

For a good part of 2008, it appeared such a claim would hold true; very few dubstep producers that suddenly came out of the woodworks seemed capable of matching Burial’s impact. Then practically out of nowhere, longtime reggae and dancehall tastemaker Kevin Martin (The Bug) released his third album to much critical acclaim, such that, as of this writing, it currently sits atop Metacritic’s best albums of 2008. Considering it shares the honor with a retrospective from influential cut-n-paste hip-hop producer Steinski, that’s an impressive feat - an album of fresh material standing toe-to-toe with a double-disc of back-catalogue. With less than two months left in the year, it looks as though dubstep is set to be riding a critical high into the New Year once again.

Is it warranted though? Sure, the music is undoubtedly the freshest to emerge in some time but could all the critical praise for it be nothing more than a “nu-genre” honeymoon? After all, isn’t dubstep just a bunch of half-step beats, gratuitous dub reverb, displaced jungle basslines, and crackly white-noise fluff? Nay, mon - The Bug proves there’s a great deal one can do with the sound.

Truth be told, London Zoo isn’t a strict dubstep album; rather, Martin’s roots in, er, roots is the dominate focus, with the rich history of Jamaican-influenced music bursting through every pocket. Yeah, yeah… what’s with Britain co-opting their former colony’s culture for their own use, you quibble. [TranceCritic]’s been over this one plenty enough, so let’s not get into it; just accept that there are Jamaican transplants in the UK, such that themes of Jah and fights against oppression sounds just as pertinent here as on any Marley or Perry record.

Besides, with Martin’s skill behind the knobs injecting dubstep’s futuristic aesthetic into the works, classic dancehall jams are re-invigorated for the modern era with brilliant results. Even if you’ve never fancied the sound, the wobbly, punctual rhythms and grimey atmospherics will grab your attention right out of the gate and hold it until the final obligatory ‘repent, for Judgement Day is nigh’ finale. And that bass. Good God (Jah?), that bass! Every track’s bassline is totally unique from the other, easily putting to rest any qualms that “this stuff all sounds the same”. Sometimes it’s a low rumble but other times, like in Fuckaz and Skeng, it roars like some kind of Imperial Star Destroyer engine, with drops that’ll ensnare even the most conservative folk; the dancers that literally wobble to this stuff undoubtedly do so because these low frequencies liquefy bones, turning dancehall punters into masses of jelly.

Of course, no dancehall album is complete without some toasting on the mic, and The Bug has rounded up quite the cast of MCs to complement his tracks. Old standbys like Tippa Irie, Aya, and Ricky Ranking are in as fine of form as ever, but it’s members of the newer cast of dancehall toasters that steal the show. Aggressive chants from Flowdan and Warrior Queen, ominous spoken-word from Killa P, wobbly spitting from Spaceape, and cool crooning from Roger Robinson all combine to make London Zoo as much a showcase for all their individual talents as it is an outlet for Martin’s productions. There’s a sense of urgency in all their voices, as though they realize this is their biggest opportunity to let the world know just how vigorous dancehall MCing can be. They don’t disappoint in this regard.

In case it isn’t clear by now, London Zoo is certainly deserving of the critical praise that’s been handed to it. Even if you’ve never heard of The Bug (a large number of you, I reckon) and these Jamaican influenced sounds have only brought confused glances to your face (a lesser amount of you, I hope), this album should still find its way into your collection. It’s musically fresh, wonderfully paced (strong openers, classy middle, rousing climax), and proves dubstep – in all its forms - remains a genre to keep an ear open for.

Loreena McKennitt - Live In Paris And Toronto

Quinlan Road: 1999

When I lived in the hinterlands of Canada, I rented in a house with various other roomers who'd come and go. As I was the one with a decent stereo, my gear took up residence in the living room, where I'd often load the 3-CD tray with my own music. Fair enough, as my housemates shared similar tastes, what with being 'Rupert Ravers' and all. Every so often though, I'd play a combination of albums that threw them for a loop. One such day included a run of some EDM (I forget which now), the Hieroglyphics LP 3rd Eye Blind (“homie-b” music, the girl living with us called it), followed by this particular album from ethereal Celtic-folk artist Loreena McKennitt. They remarked how little sense it made for me to have such bizarre range of interest (for a 20 year old, anyway), and while hip-hop still had some connection to EDM, how did Loreena fit the puzzle of my interests?

It was likely my mother's influence, who was into Enya and all that New Age stuff when it broke into the early ‘90s mainstream (yeah yeah, total cliché there). Enigma was also a part of her musical rotation of the time, which led to ambient and world beat I still enjoy, but another act she liked was Loreena McKennitt. I... didn't quite latch onto her the same way, though my sister did. Hm, guess that makes sense, Enigma's 'tough' beats appealing to male sensibilities (no, stay with me on this theory!), and Ms. McKennitt's harps and singing more of a chick’s thing. What gender stereotypes?

Okay, sorry for that lengthy, anecdotal introduction. I felt it necessary to explain why, on a blog called Electronic Music Critic, there's also a live Loreena McKennitt album here. I've strayed off the EDM path often, but this must be the furthest I’ve gone yet. I don’t think there are any other ethereal Celtic folk-pop records in my collection, so at least it’s a one-off.

For those unaware of McKennitt, she gained international fame mostly through association with the New Age market. While her music is definitely of an Irish and Celtic tradition, she imbued her music with mystical qualities that set herself apart from staunch traditionalists, an incredibly appealing attribute for ladies into fantasy works and that; the guys had their Viking metal, the girls got their Arthurian romanticism (was this all Excaliber’s fault?). While having a deal with Warner Music gave McKennitt greater exposure (especially here in Canada, where the Winnipeg native enjoyed plenty of Canadian Content rotation), she’s remained an independent artist, self-producing and publishing her music through her own Quinlan Road print. Proper underground t’ings, mon! (whoops, wrong sub-culture)

There’s plenty more to her story, but I’m not the best person to detail it. Maybe try Ethereal Celtic Music Critic. All you need to know from my end is I liked her music enough to get a live album of it (essentially a greatest hits package), and that’s about it.

Neil Young - Live At Massey Hall 1971

Reprise Records: 2007

The idea of resurrecting old live gigs was definitely tantalizing to Neil Young fans, given the rumours of how much mint material remained untapped and unheard by public ears in decades. Yet while the first release of this series, Live At The Fillmore East, was cool for what it was, it still felt slight, barely a cursory glance of those particular shows. While I doubt folks would be disappointed if the Performance Series carried on that way, some had to wonder if the format could be improved upon.

Whether by coincidence or design, they got their answer in the second volume, Live At Massey Hall. This show was deemed so good by Young’s long-time producer David Briggs that he pleaded it be released rather than Harvest. Young decided against it, but considering how popular that album went on to be, the Massey Hall recordings must have been incredible. Yeah, it is, though in an unexpected way.

Despite having an established career playing acoustic rock and folk, there’d only been sporadic official live album of this side of Young, and even then with backing musicians. This was the first full concert album of Neil playing just by himself, nothing more than an acoustic guitar and a piano in his arsenal – not even a harmonica shows up!

Such a stripped back performance works well enough for small, intimate venues like coffee houses and cellars, which Young had toured in for some time when he first went solo. By 1971, however, he’d become quite the star, and small, intimate venues were a thing of his past. Yet here he is in Massey Hall playing his music for a large, at times rowdy audience, and treating it as though it was for a group of fifty.

Therein lies Live At Massey Hall’s magic. There’s a real sense of stage isolation while listening to this, Young retreating into his own space as he sings. At times, when he belts out the high notes of Old Man and Down By The River, his voice echoes across the hall, further adding to that sense of remoteness. You can easily picture him surrounded by darkness up there, a single spotlight glowing from above keeping him from disappearing altogether. Despondent songs like Bad Fog Of Loneliness, Tell Me Why, A Man Needs A Maid, and even Cowgirl In The Sand completes the picture, even without the DVD aid of concert footage.

And yet, this all creates a stronger connection to him as a performer, where he’s allowing us into his private domain. It helps that he has a very respectful audience (mostly hippies his age, apparently), enthusiastic between songs, and remarkably quiet when Young sings. Maybe it was unfamiliarity with the music he debuted at this concert (“Heart Of Gold? Never heard of it.”), or maybe it was the Toronto crowd welcoming back a native son. Whichever the case, Live At Massey Hall was an early highlight of the Performance Series, one that’s yet to be repeated.

Electronic Music Critic, now with Amazon Links & Clips!

I never intended for this. When I started blogging again, it was as a lark, something to keep the writing juices going while focusing on work, college, and other assorted pet projects. Little did I know that, not only would I find that groove again, but hold onto it for as long as I have, with no real sign of losing it either. And while the readership I've generated since hasn't been a runaway internet smash or anything, it's grown to the point where I'm getting requests for actual audio clips.

I neglected it at first because it felt like more committed time to scouring for such clips than was worth investing for a side-hobby. Most blogs rely on YouTube links, and as those can be taken down at any point, you're constantly having to maintain them, lest you end up with a series of broken ones over time. And hosting the music myself was out of the question, the legal hassel involved so not worth it, which left me with legitimate sources.

Well, I did have an Amazon account when I started EMC, one I hardly gave much thought because, back then, there weren't many MP3 options to share clips with. Lo and behold though, times have changed, and Amazon's MP3 store has grown significantly, such that not including available audio to all this music I'm reviewing is utterly foolhardy. True, they're crummy thirty-second clips, often not even playing the best portions of said tracks, but it's something. As for why I don't also get Beatport and iTunes accounts, I'm an Amazon slut through and through; plus, you can get actual hard-copies at Amazon! I'm not looking to make big money off including Amazon links - Hell, I'm not even expecting to make a pittance. If I'm praising something as 'must own', however, I should at least give you the option of nabbing a copy for yourself.

So here's what you can expect going forward:

AMAZON BUTTON: Underneath each 'ACE TRACK' list, this button will, if available, lead you to the release's Amazon page. If a hard-copy option isn't available, it will take you to an MP3 option instead. If there is no Amazon Button, chances are it's a free net-album (eg: Ectoplazm downloads).

MP3 PLAYER: Underneath the Amazon Button will be an MP3 playlist of the release, which will include most, if not all, the tracks contained on the release. If there's no Player, chances are the album doesn't exist in an official MP3 form at Amazon (common with many older CDs). I'll make franken-Lists for the Burned CDs I review, but cobbling together a Playlist of scattered tracks that appear on regular CDs is more time than I'm willing to invest right now. Maybe down the road, if there's enough requests for it.

ACE TRACK PLAYLIST: In the sidebar, there's now a permanent Playlist that contains clips of anything I've given ACE TRACK status, provided Amazon has it available as an MP3. Now you can hear what I've sung the praises of! As I'm always listening to something new, this list will be constantly updated with each new review.

And that's about it. I spent nearly 20 hours straight this past day adding Amazon links and widgets to everything I could since Model 500's Classics. That's 300+ reviews! Holy cow, I must have been insane doing that. Wish I'd just have included these options from the start, but I sure didn't think I'd have written this much in 15 months. Dunno if the effort will be worth it, but if folks now have a reason to check back some of those older reviews, I say it has.

*2015 UPDATE*:
Turns out Amazon don't like it when you aren't generating enough revenue, promptly cancelling my Associate's Account. Oh well