Various - The Music Of Cosmos

Cosmos Studios: 1981/2000

How fortunate. I can talk about The Music Of Cosmos at a time when interest in Carl Sagan’s excellent series is part of the public discourse again, thanks to nu-Cosmos currently airing on TV. The Neil DeGrasse Tyson hosted series is pretty good so far, though tends to lack the gravitas the original held, too often bypassing the philosophical notions Sagan brought forth while explaining the wonders around us. The Alan Silvestri score sadly doesn’t help, missing those iconic musical cues that flourished throughout the original series. C’mon, mang, you did Back To The Future, you can do memorable themes. Only thing sticking so far is that bit of piano diddle in the opening credits, and only because it reminds me of the Contact score.

Right, right, this is an unfair comparison, but let’s be honest here: along with everything else, Cosmos stands peerless as a documentary because of its music. Not only did it include synth wizards of the era (Vangelis, Tomita, Synergy), but also works from classical composers (Mozart, Vivaldi, Bach, Pachelbel, Holst, Stravinsky), and even contemporary music like blues and prog-rock (Louis Armstrong, Roy Buchanan, Pink Floyd). No way could Silvestri compete with such a range of music, and one wonders why they didn’t try licensing music out like before. Surely nu-Cosmos has a bigger budget than the original. Did all the money go into those spiffy atom animations?

Whatever. Let’s focus on The Music Of Cosmos, proper original-like. The most famous pieces were the Vangelis compositions. In fact, you can’t hear the gentle piano of Heaven & Hell or synthy bell tones of Alpha without thinking Cosmos, the two completely intertwined in the public consciousness to this day. Folks probably figure Vangelis specifically wrote all these works for Cosmos, but were actually plucked from older albums. There are a couple exclusive synth works here though, both by an anonymous chap named Boydstun, whom even the mighty Lord Discogs knows nothing about. Hell, he never even made the cut on the original ’81 vinyl, though neither did several other works. Thank goodness for twenty year anniversary double-CD editions, eh?

One of the clever things about The Music Of Cosmos is how the tracks are arranged to tell a narrative of sorts, specifically of the cosmos as humanity’s come to understand it, and perhaps foresee our possible fates. Helping the tale along are sound effects bridging the music together. For instance, just before Vangelis’ Alpha starts, a massive explosion erupts from the desolate calm of Shostakovich’s Symphony No. 11. A supernova creating the heavier elements? I’d say so. Meanwhile on CD2, where technology’s run rampant, chainsaws mercilessly cut down old growth forest before the melancholy Prayer of St. Gegory emerges.

Not the most subtle of messages, that, but Sagan’s gift was presenting such messages as a means to inspire ourselves to become better than we are. The rich diversity of music presented in The Music Of Cosmos only proves humanity’s ability to do so.

Soliquid - Music Is For Rich People

Captured Digital: 2007

Soliquid, or Dávid Biczók to the European Empire, seemed like a guy that could do no wrong in the trance-slash-progressive scene of the late ‘00s. Already a favorite with the traditional Anjunabeat ‘crackers, he even got playlisted by the likes of Digweed and Hybrid (!), highly respected names regardless of what folks thought of the current state of their careers. A strong assortment of singles, including his biggest hit in Music Is For Rich People, built anticipation for a debut album, which dropped in 2009 as Transportation. And then Soliquid dropped from the face of Lord Discog’s existence. No follow-up singles, a few remix credits reaching no further than 2010, and that’s all Mr. Biczók wrote. The business side of music must have soured him severely to abandon it so; or maybe he settled down with a family.

I recall being intrigued enough by a few of his tracks to hunt down the single for Music If For Rich People, and even intended to review it for TranceCritic. Upon finding it though, I discovered it was already a year old, which might as well be a hundred where singles in music journalism are concernted. Off to the dusty corners of a burned disc it thusly went. Shame I didn't review it, as perhaps the ol' TC bump could have inspired Mr. Biczók to keep producing to this day, our voice having enough sway to- ahahaha! Oh, that's funny.

Anyhow, the original version of Musical People Of Richness is one hell of a bangin’ track. I’m astounded such a hard piece of trance didn’t chase away all those progressive house jocks who picked up Soliquid’s other singles, but then Mr. Biczók did claim to have diversity as part of his manifesto. Even this cut’s got plenty going for it: fierce-as-fuck rhythms, electro dressings, twinkly breakdown, and a glitch-laden build. Good stuff.

The remixes got more attention though, especially so the Mat Zo Remix, one of that guy’s earliest works. It has all the hallmarks of latter-era McProg, and I remain stunned that I’m still digging those grumbly basslines and twinkly melodies; or maybe Mr. Zo’s reputation is well deserved and he crafted an excellent example of the sound. Meanwhile, Cerf & Mistika provide a rub that checks traditional prog-house boxes, though has the whiff of Armada blandness about it. At the other end is the Sunny Lax Remix, doing your bog-standard epic-uplifting-melodic Anjunabeats eurotrance that’s fun to hear on its own, but is just pants in most sets. Still, I’m sure the Anjuna kids would kill for a return to this sound from their favored label. Oh, and Biczók does an epic-uplifting-melodic remix of his own under his Bëlmondo guise, but who cares about that when there’s the kick-ass original?

If you missed this EP before and have a minor hankering for trance of 2007, Music Is For Rich People’s definitely worth a look back on. It hints at a promising lengthy career that sadly never materialized.

Boards Of Canada - Music Has The Right To Children

Warp Records: 1998/2004

What is it about Music Has The Right To Children that's allowed it to endure as a classic album within electronic music's long history? Is it the positive impact it had on the IDM market, rescuing that scene from ever-deepening navel gazing experimentation? Is it how it lured in a tonne of proto-hipster kids after Boards Of Canada were NME and Pitchfork Approved, one of the first electronic albums made so during the net-‘zine's early years? Might it be the perfect timing of this LP's release, capturing the attention of an ageing raving demographic that found itself wistfully longing for the innocence of their youth? Will this paragraph have at least one sentence that isn't in the form of a question?

The answer to all but the last of these is “yes”. In a broader sense, Music Has The Right To Children was one of the few electronic albums of the ‘90s that had wide appeal no matter your background, surprising many with its charming tone. Just take an impossibly geeky style of electronic music like ‘70s analog synth work, and pair it with an impossibly cool style of electronic music, in this case trip-hop. It’s such a simple idea, one wonders why no one thought of it before Boards Of Canada. Who could have guessed that the BBC Radiophonic Workshop and Ninja Tune getting sexed up was something folks longed for.

Much has been said about the nostalgic nature of Musically Right-Handed Children, many theories out there why this album touches folks the way it does. The playful bounce of Roygbiv and quirky sampling of Aquarius certainly plays a part in recalling those days of childlike whimsy, yet as we age, a warped sense of cynicism creeps in too. The off-kilter “love”s in The Color Of The Fire, disconcerting synth tones of Sixtyten, or rhythmically-chopped vocals of Telephasic Workshop suggest the world we grew up in wasn’t so perfect after all.

Still, it’s all theory, and for all we know, Boards Of Canada just enjoy toying with different emotions in their music. Ultimately, what wormed its way into the minds and hearts of countless fans were simple, catchy moments. The aforementioned Aquarius is a perfect example, no one able to mention BoC and the word “orange” without saying it in the goofy way that it does in that track. This album’s filled with such quirks, often tucked away in brief sonic doodles throughout. I’d wager the duo’s at their best when they focus less on song craft and simply indulge themselves, but the few fully-formed tracks they do provide remains some of their most enduring work.

Music Has The Right To Children has one drawback though: those trip-hop rhythms. They sounded great in the late ‘90s, but over a decade of glitch rhythms since, I’m not sure newer audiences would dig them quite so much. Then again, the synths Boards Of Canada use sound older than time itself, and that’s never stopped folks from enjoying this album.

Nobuo Uematsu - Music From FFV And FFVI Video Games

Squaresoft: 1999

Not the dorkiest thing I have in my music collection, but this definitely has to be up there. I wouldn't even call this CD a part of my proper library; rather, it was a bonus disc in the PS1 release of Final Fantasy: Anthology. When I heard Squaresoft was bringing its past games to the Sony gaming system, I was elated. Final Fantasy III/VI had already brought incredible RPG moments during my all-too brief period of Super Nintendo enjoyment, and though I still had the original cart (even to this day, including packaging, booklets, and maps – make me an offer, collectors!), I'd long since given my SNES away. Having FFVI on a then-current system was a great chance to replay the game (I lacked a computer capable of playing emulators), plus us folks in the Americanas would finally get a proper port of Final Fantasy V. Sweet deal, right?

Eh, not as I'd hoped. Something I never considered – and maybe even Squaresoft overlooked – were the laggy loading times PS1 games suffered from. It didn't happen often, but anytime a pile of sprites ran across the screen (oh hi, Quasar Lore), the audio wouldn't load as fast. Meanwhile, FFV was disappointing, a seemingly rushed affair with overstuffed options and minuscule plot. I beat it once in one of the easiest final boss fights I’ve ever encountered in an RPG, defeating the giant space-tree with only one character spamming the Jump command and blocking everything with the Aegis equipment. I understand Squaresoft was more focused on producing FFVI at the time, and essentially rushed FFV out into the market, but that still-

What? Oh, sorry, got carried away there - this isn’t a gaming blog. Then again, giving a quick overview of the games within FF: Anthology helps explain this bonus CD’s oddities. Nobuo Uematsu’s work for FFVI was some of his best, the compositions he squeezed out of the Nintendo S-SMP nothing short of astounding, pushing the 16-bit soundcard to ridiculous levels of awesome (that echo and reverb!). The original score took up three CDs, so in making use of but a quarter of that material for FF: Anthology, careful consideration of track selection was... Nah, screw that. Here’s a bunch of wildly disparate music instead.

Only two character themes make it here: Terra and Mog. Out of a cast of fourteen, that’s it? Terra’s an obvious one, sure, but Mog? Mog!? Some of the other selections are definitely classic – the Phantom Forest music, Dark World, Wild West, Epitaph - but I doubt folks would take Johnny C Slam Spinach Shuffle Rag over Forever Rachel or anything Opera House related. I suspect the selected pieces are meant to show off Uematsu’s diversity rather than placate with fan favourites, but it still leaves this CD lacking in notable selling points.

As for the few FFV selections, they’re okay, though sound rather Nobuo Generic, if that’s any way to describe music. I’m sure Final Fantasy followers will know what I mean.

The Prodigy - Music For The Jilted Generation

XL Recordings: 1994

Probably the most successful reboot of a musical act ever accomplished, at least within the world of electronic music. Several have tried re-invention or adopted alternate aliases to explore other genres, but The Prodigy's flip from chart-topping happy rave hardcore act to credible guardians of the underground party is nothing short of remarkable. Just a couple years prior, everyone associated them with fun goofball hits like Charly and Out Of Space. Then, seemingly overnight, they're confronting you with punk attitudes and music to match. The Prodigy never lost their hardcore, they snatched it back from those who'd turned it into a joke.

What’s amazing about Music For The Jilted Generation is, while clearly a ‘90s album, it somehow exists out of time too. You throw on Experience, and you instantly know it’s of the early ‘90s hardcore scene. Fat Of The Land is undeniably part of big beat’s major market push, and anything released post-Millennium sounds exactly like that. The music on this album, however, didn’t have a scene to itself, and never would because no one tried emulating Jilted Generation - with any success anyway.

I suppose you could mark some tunes like Their Law and Poison as proto-big-beat, but what of the other tracks? Liam Howlett’s still using high-energy breakbeats, but rather than coupling them with rolling pianos and chipmunk vocals, you get synths that snarl, guitars that thrash, and rhythms that’ll have you moshing just as much as flailing. Plus, Jilted Generation’s pacing is impeccable, great memorable tunes like Break & Enter and Voodoo People interspersed perfectly with uptempo filler techno. Believe me, I use the word ‘filler’ as a good thing here, Full Throttle, Speedway and The Heat (The Energy) the simplistic musical ebbs that propel No Good and Poison into the standouts they are within Jilted. It was bloody rare in ’94 for a ‘techno-rave’ album showing such consideration to tracklisting.

Then there’s the Narcotic Suite at the end, a thematic run of the ups and downs of drug indulgences. If, following the rest of Jilted Generation, there were still doubts that ol’ Liam was just a one-trick production pony, this trilogy firmly proved otherwise. The evening starts chill and relaxed with acid jazz vibes of 3 Kilos, then we’re flying high into blissy energy with Skylined. Oh dear, we took too much, feeling that Claustophobic Sting, twisted acid and sketchy paranoia setting in as “my mind is going”. Where the fuck is that sinister laughter coming from! When folks bemoan The Prodigy just aren’t as good as they used to be, the Narcotic Suite is always one such example why, Howlett never recreating something of this nature since.

The same can be said for Jilted Generation as a whole, the album a clear bridge from where The Prodigy started to the next stage of their act. It could have resulted in a messy, hodge-podge LP of uncertain genre tests. Instead, it’s some of the best work of their career.

Beto Narme - Multiple Choice

Sublime Porte Netlabel: 2010

I have no recollection of how a digi-EP from an Istanbul net label found its way into my possession. As it's a 2010 release, I suspect it was part of some MP3 promo-pool I briefly subscribed to, but I've nothing else from Sublime Porte, which makes having this stranger still. If an MP3 promo was good enough for me to keep that year, I usually kept an eye on the label too, hoping another EP might get released that could knock me out of my then writing stupor. Maybe Sublime Porte simply lost its promotional power, unable to penetrate an overcrowded digital market. After all, who'd ever be interested in dubstep from Turkey?

If Multiple Choice is anything to go by, they should be. Right, it's impossible gauging a whole scene of an entire country based on four tracks from one label, but we gotta start somewhere. Plus, Sublime Porte’s still in operation, even recently taken a tentative step into the realm of limited-run CDr. They must be doing something right with their dub ambient techno dronestep if they’re still around, even though Lord Discogs tells me they don’t have a consistent roster. Even this Beto Narme, or Tufan Demir to the Istanbul legislate, has but this one four-year old EP to his name, though a smattering of remixes too. His Discogian bio is almost certainly out-of-date then, suggesting this was an “ever-growing dubstep project”. Maybe he got a high-paying job as that sound engineer he was striving for.

What held my interest with Multiple Choice was how, for an EP promoted as dubstep, it sounded very little like dubstep. Rather, Mr. Demir shows he’s definitely a student of Detroit and dub techno’s never-ending influence. Aside from occasional drags of the low end, Cellophane Dub is straight-up funky dub techno, including a breakbeat that’d have Carl Craig nodding approvingly. Elsewhere, Outranked Spectacles and Figment Dots gets closer to the half-step beat we’re all familiar with, but we’re still firmly floating in dub techno’s spacious waters. And warm waters they be, not those frigid, sterile bays other Detroit-inspired dubsteppers so loved to frequent. Beto Narme can’t help himself though, getting sucked into the lands of ‘wub’ on last cut Simmer Down. It’s a fine tune when you hear the vintage reggae vibes, I could just do without the requisite Rusko modulations every dubstep producer threw in during those days.

I have an almost inescapable bias against most forms of dubstep, subconsciously preparing myself for a given track letting me down by indulging in nonsensical, erratic drops. Aside from the aforementioned brief bit in Simmer Down, that moment never came on Multiple Choice, and I could enjoy all the polyrhythms without worry (dear God, I know different forms of dubstep). Yeah yeah, I know there’s tons of dubstep – sorry, post-dubstep (future garage?) like that out there. With so many netlabels pushing the stuff though, how does one even begin to filter it all out? Maybe start with this Turkish label?

Various - Moving Shadow 99.2

Moving Shadow: 1999

The best way to gauge a label’s swagger is by the number of sub-labels it’s running. Moving Shadow had a few when it started out in the early ‘90s, though most went by the wayside as the old-school hardcore scene faded. By the late ‘90s though, they’d found their mojo again, and set-up Audio Couture on the side. Best as I can tell, it handled their ‘proper’ underground stuff here – tech-dark-steppy-step, or something. It only lasted a couple years before Moving Shadow consolidated its resources again, but it was enough to re-double the label’s presence within the d’n’b scene at large. (side note: sub-labels are also telling of a label on the downward slope if focus is on an entirely different scene, as M.S. did with breaks ‘n’ house pusher Shadow Cryptic; that didn’t go as well)

Thus when Moving Shadow released 99.2, it featured ample material from Audio Couture as a means of additional promotion. I honestly can’t recall how far apart this and 99.1 were released from each other, but it couldn’t have been that much time considering they both feature the same CD-ROM material from Rockstar Games. Ooh! Grand Theft Auto 2! I have that game, though never got further than the second city. Such shit driving mechanics. There’s also Thrasher: Skate And Destroy on here, also known as “Not Tony Hawk”.

Timecode’s CD1 mix doesn’t waste time with acid jazz pleasantries or smooth jazzstep funkiness, picking things up right where 99.1 left off, literally so. 99.1 finished with AK1200 & Danny Break’s novelty ‘smutstep’ cut Deep Porn, and here’s that starlet going on about how “you’re so nasty” right at the start of 99.2. It’s only for five seconds though, and we don’t hear the track again until the very end of this mix. So, wait, is 99.2 a direct continuation of 99.1, or is this CD supposed to repeat itself into a continual loop? I’m confused.

The real first track is Dom & Roland’s remix of Renegade’s Terrorist. Yep, darkstep to kick off, and save a detour into jazzstep’s realm in the middle (gotta get in those E-Z Rollers tracks), this mix is balls to the junglist walls throughout. 99.1 wasn’t the greatest drum ‘n’ bass mix out there, but it at least had a solid arc to it. 99.2 doesn’t let up, which is fine for the floor but wearisome in this context.

Better is the bonus mix on CD2, featuring Omni Trio. It’s only twenty-one minutes long, so just a taste of Mr. Haigh’s smooth, atmospheric sound, but definitely more enjoyable than what goes down on CD1. Okay, fine, there’s a few good tunes in Timecode’s set too: Dom & Roland’s Can’t Punish Me and Aquasky’s Bodyshock come to mind. If I’m reaching for a full-on darkstep rinse-out though, I’ll sooner grab a Dieselboy mix than a Moving Shadow sampler. I suspect the label figured that out too, subsequent Moving Shadow sampler mixes offering stronger diversity than what 99.2 gives us.

Various - Moving Shadow 99.1

Moving Shadow: 1999

The late ‘90s were easily Moving Shadow’s peak years. The home of E-Z Rollers, Omni Trio, Dom & Roland, Flytronix, and Technical Itch, the label provided a full range of credible drum ‘n’ bass tools any self-respecting junglist of the time needed having. And not to be outdone by the majors, good ol’ M.S. even got licensing deals for their roster, especially so for the growing video game market.

If by some chance you still didn’t know about Moving Shadow, sitting snuggly on your local music shop shelves were these bi-yearly sampler discs. For pocket change, you’d get DJ mixes handled by Moving Shadow honcho Timecode (Rob Playford), plus a bundle of CD-ROM material. Though the CD-ROM stuff went by the wayside once internet promotion became the norm, the Moving Shadow samplers kept rolling out for a good while longer even as the label’s influence waned in the following decade.

With 99.1, we’re definitely capturing them at their prime. The main disc presents a solid assortment of jungle genres for the time, plus a little acid jazz business from Flytronix and Omni Trio to kick things off. It’s never a bad thing to show musical diversity in a set, and such smooth vibes mix nicely if you follow it up with jazzstep business. The actually mixing’s not the best though, some transitions held too long, others rushed and clashing. Still, it’s forgivable since we’re dealing with a sampler mix of a single label. Boy, do I ever forgive DJs that self-impose restrictions on themselves, huh.

A brief moment of sci-fi sounds from Omni Trio bridges the early jazz tunes into a furious finish of darkstep roughness for the final half. Quite a bit’s been written how darkstep set the jungle scene off on an aggressive, uninviting road that took years to recover from, but how was anyone to know it during these early days of the sub-genre? Calyx’ Acid Blues, Teebee’s Instant Irradicfication, and Dom & Roland’s Killa Bullet all sounded fresh and exciting as the ‘90s came to a close, and their power hasn’t faltered since. Speaking of power, Technical Itch’s brilliant acid workout Reborn and tech-step beast LED show up here, though are mashed with their surrounding tunes so much, I’d just rather grab Diagnostics for another spin again. Huh, I guess the ‘sampler advertising’ works.

CD2 features a mini-mix of E-Z Rollers material, the biggest stars on Moving Shadow at the time. Eh… okay, maybe because Tough At The Top was ridiculously played out in my neck of the woods, but I could never get into these guys. They had some decent variety, but it seemed everyone just wanted to hear their take on jazzstep, which struck me as Roni Size music for the Aphrodite crowd. Whatever. I’m sure I’d dig their material if I dug into it beyond Weekend World.

As for 99.1, it’s worth a glance in whatever used shop you find it sitting in, but better mixes of this music lie elsewhere.

Solar Fields - Movements (Original TC Review)

Ultimae Records: 2009

(2014 Update:
I went on a bit about ratings systems and the curves by which music gets graded upon, my attempt at justifying why I scored Movements a 'mere' 8/10 for TranceCritic. Of course, my lack of ratings here renders such thoughts moot, and was honestly not worth the words spent typing it up anyway. While some readers may be curious why critics rate things the way they do, there's no ironclad rule behind it, most just going with gut feelings at the time they have to write their review up. If anything, it adds pointless content as a writer is distracted and even forced into validating why they settled on that particular score, and not something a smidge higher or lower. These days, I find it better just talking about the music at hand, how it came to be, and its lasting influences. The relative quality of a release should come through within the words themselves, no fallback on a hard rating required.

That said, I definitely under-rated Movements. Truth is I was still treading the shores of Ultimae's catalog, and having already been blown away by their output, I subconsciously thought they'd always hit the amazing highs that initially lured me in. Turns out they're human after all, but hey, I've yet to encounter anything from them that's 'just okay' either. This one, though, definitely comes with high recommendation, even half-a-decade on.)


IN BRIEF: Caravan of emotions.

The trouble with being so consistently good at what you do is that the level of expectation only ever goes up. Musicians in particular are held to this impossible barometer, which is frankly ridiculous - creativity can ebb just as much any athlete’s skill, though if one’s passion remains strong, that at least comes through in music. Still, such lofty expectations placed by fans on musicians and their record labels can be detrimental in the long run.

This really wasn’t the fault of Ultimae Records. When a record label seems to only go from strength to strength for half a decade, it will eventually hit that plateau of expectation, after which anything that doesn’t meet them seems inferior to which came before. Make no mistake, 2008 was still a strong year for Ultimae, just… not as impressive as the years prior.

Perhaps it was merely a brief lull for them, as they seemed more intent on promoting fresher talent like Hol Baumann and James Murray that year. For 2009, however, all the label’s big guns have stepped up: Aes Dana, H.U.V.A. Network, and, of course, Solar Fields (Magnus Birgersson), with word on the chill streets now being Ultimae is back in full force. Does this Solar Fields album -Movements- confirm this?

Well, the album is good - there was almost no doubt it wouldn’t be. Yet, compared to prior releases on Ultimae, Movements doesn’t quite reach the same peak. In fact, aside from a few instances, we’re treading familiar paths. Solar Fields paths, Ultimae paths, heck even downtempo paths. This is not a bad thing, just an apparent thing, and drags the score slightly down. After all, music does not exist in a vacuum; it’s continuously graded on a quality curve, and Ultimae artists have been held to an incredibly high curve, of which Movements doesn’t always hit.

More than that, however, is the flow of this album is somewhat… off. Most good albums follow a build-peak-valley-build-climax formula, but Movements is more like climax-valley-climax-valley-climax; in other words, the highs are incredibly high, such that whatever transpires in the interim comes off less compelling. Opener Sol is wonderful - simply beautiful to hear and easily one of the best songs I’ve heard start an album this year - but follow-up Circles Of Motion sounds like an extended ambient interlude. It’s nice enough but a major downturn coming off of Sol, as there’s nothing in the song to match it soon after. Going into mellow territory is fine, just perhaps not in such an abrupt way.

When I say there are numerous climaxes to Movements, I’m not kidding around. On my initial plays, I thought the album was coming to an end no less than three times. Sky Trees, Das Bungalow, and The Road To Nothingness are all riveting songs, any of which being the sort of production most would save for their big finale; yet, here’s Birgersson giving us three of them. It was disconcerting to hear Sky Trees the first couple times, as it felt way too soon for the finish of an album. Das Bungalow, on the other hand, seemed more logically placed, though still early considering Birgersson uses the full 80 minutes of the CD. And even Road To Nothingness was strong enough to fool me into thinking it was the final track, when lo-and-behold, there was still another to follow. Granted, once you’ve listened to Movements a few times over, you’ll get used to having these peaks spread out, but be prepared to be thrown off-guard for a little while.

There are other assorted sonic goodies scattered about too. Breeze makes for a tranquil finale-proper, easing us out with gentle meditative tones. The Stones Are Not Too Busy, as the cutesy title suggests, is a lightweight romp the more cynical lot of you out there will probably figure a bit overly twee. If so, the moody ambient soundscapes provided by the likes of Dust or Patterns should be more up your alley. As for the rest, well, I’ll let you discover them for yourself. No sense in me spoiling everything, right?

After all, my job here is to let you know whether Movements comes recommended or not. Short answer is yes, definitely. However, the long answer is if you are expecting Solar Fields to have provided yet another all-time Ultimae classic, your results may vary. The label has released better, of that there is no doubt. I’m not even sure if Movements is the best starting point for the uninitiated since Birgersson’s project has plenty more to offer than chill-out bliss; not to mention this is but a sliver of what you can expect of Ultimae. Beyond that though, you’ll find this album a welcome companion to your chill archives.

Inspectah Deck - The Movement

Koch Records: 2003

As a point man in the Wu-Tang Clan, Inspectah Deck is without equal, many all-time classic cuts featuring him leading the lyrical charge. When doing guest verses, Rebel INS can often steal the show, and I wonder the only reason he doesn’t is because he’s just classy that way. As a solo artist, Mr. J.K. Hunter is, ah… not as good. Maybe it’s not so surprising, as this trend's been the solo-Wu narrative since seemingly forever; or at least Wu-Tang Forever. It’s also an unfair narrative, one blinded by the brilliance of the Clan’s first half-decade of work and near-impossible expectations put upon the ensuing years. Some still meet those lofty peaks (oh hi, Ghostface), while others, not so much (um, yo, Method Man).

Inspectah Deck always seems stuck in the middle that mountain, albums that never outright suck but lacking in the highlights that’s defined the best of his peers. I’ve only gathered up three of his four LPs, so I can’t say this holds true with Manifesto, but seeing how his first three disappointed when they first came out, I can’t say I’m in a hurry to get that one. Of those first three, they’re different beasts to tackle, so let’s get going on Rebel INS’ sophomore album, The Movement.

First, context. The year was 2003 and hip-hop had basically buried the beefs and gone about promoting itself as a culture only concerned with attaining bling status - the Jay-Z-slash-50 Cent fallout, if you will. While some rappers had no problem remaining street or conscious, nearly everyone was obligated at providing club bangers on their LPs. Okay, fine, the Wu’s had a few hits in this regard, and- well, no. I like beats that bang, for sure, but what Deck offers here comes off as lip service. Going on about Shorty Right There with Street Life, or Bumpin And Grindin… ugh, INS, you’re better than that. Much better.

Okay, the good shit. Proving he’s lyrically above and beyond his peers is always mint, and we get a few tunes of that type. Stories of hustling and taking hip-hop back to the proper streets? Yeah, there’s a bunch of that. Not much else, to be honest, but that’s fine, since these are topics Deck’s always been ace at. Unfortunately, while Deck doesn’t falter with his verses, some choruses are just pants. That Shit and Get Right are two of the worst (that’s not the aforementioned club junk), and unfortunately come early in the album, never a good way of holding an already suspicious listener base suspecting another disappointing Wu effort.

Get past that though, and you’ll find plenty of New York funk and soul loops to enjoy, and lyricism to match. If The Movement can be faulted for anything, it’s a few too many tracks and wonky pacing (Vendetta is a perfect closer, yet is nowhere near the end). This is an album that’s good enough from Deck, but it still wasn’t the awesome fans kept hoping for.