Antendex - Photons

Force Intel: 2010

I kicked this November’s batch of reviews off with ZerO One, an ambient techno producer that isn’t all that dissimilar to The Higher Intelligence Agency. Now I’m at the end of November reviewing an album called Photons from Antendex, another collection of music that bears striking similarities to The HIA. And in the middle of this month I reviewed Boards Of Canada’s Geogaddi, which only has tangentially related stylistic markers within ambient techno’s scope to any of these acts. But a tangent is a prominent feature in geometry and trigonometric applications, which is more math you know – just know - BoC intended as another hidden clue to that album’s deeper meanings that the music alone couldn’t articulate. And that message…? That I’m never gonna’ let fan-based theoretical bollocks go, am I?

Seriously though, it’s a remarkable coincidence that this month of reviews is bookmarked by a pair of such albums. However, where ZerO One’s efforts were of a more playful approach, Antendex (or Tamás Olejnik to Hungarian credit companies) goes for the serious, experimental side of ambient ‘bleep’ dub techno. Though I immediately thought of HIA when listening to Photons, you could probably namedrop plenty other early IDM acts who shared similar aesthetics with Bobby Bird’s work (Autechre, Biosphere, etc.). This album also smacked some sense into my jaded assumptions of ambient techno’s non-status in the new millennium. I had no idea anyone would make deliberately old-school ‘bleep’ dub, yet on reflection it shouldn’t have surprised me, dub techno finding all sorts of in-roads with budding laptop producers. That Mr. Olejnik would craft an album strong enough to gain Force Intel’s notice and blessing is remarkable, but then perhaps the Mille Plateaux offshoot had as much of a hankering for the retro style Antendex offered as I did.

Yeah, I should get this out of the way: as a collection of ‘bleep’ ambient dub,Photons is incredibly vintage, almost to a fault. I don’t know whether Mr. Olejnik was directly inspired by Bird, but these sound an awful lot like HIA b-sides. If I’ve never convinced you of the wicked-neat sounds of HIA, I doubt I’ll have any luck with Antendex. If you’re game though, stick around to the end of this review for some convincing. Or pie. I promise there’ll be pie afterwards.

Photons is made up of thirteen primary tracks, plus a remix of the first song Quanta. Other track titles include names like Emission, Amino, Modulation, and Dronflex. This is all very geeky sounding, and the music is too. It’s also quite pretty in that minimalist way spacious bleep ambience can go, though a few experimental drone tracks are littered about too. Very little breaches the four minute mark either, giving these tracks an bit of pop writing sensibility. Just as well since the sonic ideas Antendex brings up in each track didn’t need much exploration anyway. It’s all rather samey throughout, but if it’s a sound you can dig, your ear-holes shall be tickled proper.

Various - Phoenix Rising (Original TC Review)

Trishula Records: 2007

(2014 Update:
Whoof, is this ever a painful one to read. Grammar's incredibly clunky, the preamble lead-in has little to do with anything, and it has a return of the dreaded track-by-track analysis, a format we'd all but stopped doing half-way through TranceCritic's run. A big part of the problem is my attempts at 'journalistic impartiality' while still struggling at playing the PR political game with Trishula, hoping for continual promos from the label. I also had growing doubts if I was legitimately enjoying this music, or it was nothing more than an escape from my lingering frustration over euro-trance's regular nonsense. I wanted to praise this music, but didn't always believe what I was writing. Listening back on this compilation, I can at least verify it does hold up for dark psy - Trishula were good at gathering talent with unique takes on the sound. Shame I wasn't more confident in conveying such sentiments back in the day.)


IN BRIEF: Trishula, twisted as ever.

Well this is different. Oh, not so much the actual music on here, although I’ll get to that in a bit. No, I’m talking about the cover. I’m so used to dealing with Hindu themes or psychedelic themes or alien themes that seeing one delving into Egyptian mythology is a nice change of pace. Okay, so there’s both psychedelic and Hinduism imagery lurking in the background, but it’s that flaming bird grabbing your attention on the cover, so it dominates the theme.

That’s Trishula’s game though. Mechanophobia touched on Judaism, so the label has no qualms with shying away from psy trance’s usual clichés. A unique sound has been bred in their roster, standing out from the crowded arena of wibbly glut. And by skewing towards the darker side of the genre, they seem intent on exploring twisted soundscapes rather than offer easy accessibility.

(I suppose this is about where I normally give my “psy trance isn’t for everyone” disclaimer, but is it really necessary anymore? Yes, this is fringe music. That doesn’t make it any less worthwhile for those seeking a little diversity in electronic music though. Deal with it.)

I think it’s safe to say Trishula’s roster is in top form on this release. These aren’t some bunch of Israeli ravers who’ve just been inspired by Infected Mushroom or Astral Projection, knocking out redundant full-on trance overnight, never to be heard from again. Rather, there’s a meticulous method to these producers’ madness; a steely control over their tracks can be heard once you get past the noisy surface (although Mind Distortion System does every-so closely flirt with excessive squibble on his offering).

And this is why, despite the brisk BPMs, Phoenix Rising works better as head-music than the dancefloor. These tracks would rather play wonderful twisted things with your mind, although should you give a little ass-shake in the process doesn’t hurt.

A nice bit of variety is on offer here for a collection of tunes that remain in the narrow field of dark psy. Attoya’s and Darkpsy’s tracks are more obvious than the rest, with immediate hooks and sounds you don’t have to concentrate to discover. Less so is Mubali vs Kindzadza’s Galactic Cannibalism and Mind Distortion System’s Underworld, both of which make ample use of squiggly synths that sound akin to binary droid speak (maybe). They’re odd, yet kind of fun too.

Meanwhile, Dark Elf and Detonatik try to show us psy has rhythmic worthiness despite claims to the contrary. Routeroot comes close but stumbles from a lack of direction with sounds that are over-aggressive in delivery; like listening to a cyborb meatgrinder, to my ears. Hot Bird Satelite soars though, with a kick-ass driving beat that intensifies as the song moves forward and trippy effects that add to the tribal-tech-trance feel.

A little further along, this compilation enters what I can best describe as The Cybernetic Swamp Section, as Detonator & Darkshire’s Mind Your Gap and Olien’s Drophole sound exactly like that. The former contains an assortment of eerie sound effects as a murky atmosphere envelopes your senses but it’s Olien’s offering that’s the highlight. Whereas Mind Your Gap dwelled on the critters, Drophole turns our attention to the lumbering beasts that move about. Strangely enough, there’s also a spaceport nearby too. Delightfully bizarre.

And finally, Phoenix Rising ends on a couple tracks borrowing elements of pop culture (I suppose Engine kind of did too with Riddick samples, but that saga’s still relatively obscure compared to Star Wars and Phantom Of The Opera). Normally, these sort of songs aren’t the best, often getting too caught up in playing “Hey, Recognize This Sample?” with the listener. In this case though, most of the samples used complement what the producers are doing, so Darkforces and Phantom Ki are fine closers.

And speaking of closers, that about wraps up this review. I guess it’s elementary from here, folks. Phoenix Rising is a solid compilation of psy. It executes with precision, doesn’t get bogged down in excess, and dabbles in enough variety to keep it fresh throughout. If none of this holds any appeal for you, chances are you haven’t even read this far anyway (and if you have, I haven’t the foggiest notion why).

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2007. © All rights reserved

Tangerine Dream - Phaedra

Virgin: 1974/1995

I've got a hundred angles to approach this with, and I'm stumped on every single one of them. Guess that’s why I'm going with the “I'm stumped in how to approach this” opener, wasting valuable self-imposed word count in the process. Tangerine Dream's history, their lasting inspiration on future producers of ambient and experimental synth-pop (!), even specific details surrounding the release of Phaedra: all better options in starting this review with. Nope, I gotta' make this all about me and my dilemma. How selfish.

But also a disclaimer. Though I've listened to some Tangerine Dream and assorted solo works from various members and contributors (Christopher Franke, Klaus Schulze, Michael Hoenig, Ulrich Schnauss), Phaedra is the only album I've thus attained. I intend to gain more down the road, but I had to start somewhere, and Phaedra is generally considered the Tangerine Dream album you're supposed to have, even if you're not a Tangerine Dream fan. I think the only reason it got that status is from the fact it was their first album released on Virgin, so has had the longest-running significant PR behind it. Easy enough to pluck tracks from here for those ambient compilations the label put together in the early ‘90s, right? Instant importance established, especially upon a newly reinvigorated ambient scene owing quite a bit to the groundwork these guys paved.

Without boring you with minute details (as any Wikipedia entry should suffice), what elevates Phaedra above so much other Berlin-School krautrock was the way these guys manipulated sequencers into something free-flowing and improvisational. Many would replicate and even improve upon what was accomplished here, but the Phaedra and Movements Of A Visionary sessions captured a moment of exceptional creativity on the participants’ part (founder Edgar Froese, Franke, and Peter Baumann). With a bubbly synth-pulse as a guiding rudder, Phaedra moves through spacious alien terrain, floating kosmic music, and eerie lands of the unknown. Movements, at half Phaedra’s length, serves as something of a b-side, exploring similar musical ideas but with less emphasis on creating outworldly atmosphere.

Two other tracks make up this album, another lengthy piece titled Mysterious Semblance At The Strand Of Nightmares, and a short sonic doodle at the end called Sequent ‘C’. The latter isn’t of much interest, unless you’re totally down for Baumann’s dark flute action. The former, on the other hand, has more in common with modern classical of the time than space synth and minimalism. Ol’ Edgar gets most of the composing credit for that piece, and it shows, lacking the musically creative melting pot the other tracks have. It’s a fine example of the genre (Tomita must have been impressed), but not as dynamic as Phaedra and Movements.

This album is unquestionably required listening for all folks interested in ambient music. It’s also rather spiffy for spliff sessions, as I’m sure some egg-headed sorts indulged in back in the ‘70s. Imagine hearing this for the first time in those years, eh? Schrägesten musik, mann!

The Beach Boys - Pet Sounds

Capitol Records: 1966/2001

Pull up for a tantalizing tale of talented musicians of the '60s. The Beatles were going from strength to strength, Paul McCartney and John Lennon riding an unprecedented creative streak into Revolver. Brian Wilson of the Beach Boys, despite coming off old-fashioned in the wake of the British Invasion, sought out to do nothing less than top that album. And so he did, Pet Sounds the results. Gobsmacked, the Liverpool Four went out of their way to top that album, which they did with Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. So Brian had to top them once more, which he tried to with Smile ...except he had a nervous breakdown and mothballed most of those sessions, save some psychedelic weirdness and one of the greatest pop songs of all time in Good Vibrations.

Whoops, I'm getting ahead of things there. Then again, can it be helped with Pet Sounds, an album so ahead of its time, rock scholars are still finding tantalizing tidbits to study? It’s utterly insane the amount of production poured into all these simple little pop jangles and ballads, some of which seemingly used for little more than a lark. The out-of-tune mandolin that opens Wouldn’t It Be Nice is a mere precursor to the ‘kitchen-sink’ approach Wilson implemented. It’s like he scoured studios for any instrument or relic and found ways of fitting them in. “A Theremin? Sure, it’ll make for a neat capper on I Just Wasn’t Made For These Times.” Small surprise the BBC did a new version of God Only Knows this year that only matched the original by throwing in every damn musician they could find into the session. Even then, I still prefer the original’s simple clippity-clop percussion over a full orchestra.

Pet Sounds is a triumph of studio wizardry, no doubt, but technical achievement does not timeless music make. What elevated this album above so many others are the themes Brian brings up, poignant coming of age reflections that often escape us until well after the fact. For instance That’s Not Me touches upon the romanticism of moving to the big city in search of fame, fortune and romance, which many young hopefuls in the ‘60s did in earnest. Yet here’s one guy realizing such pursuits were foolhardy, nor his dreams – he only did it because everyone else was doing it. I Just Wasn’t Made For These Times follows upon such sentiments, while I Know There’s An Answer (aka: Hang On To Your Ego) calls out the stubborn few who figure they know better regardless for the confused, isolated sorts they are. Couple this with love songs among the most mature you’ll ever hear (God Only Knows, Don’t Talk, Here Today), and you’ve an album thematically miles away from the carefree, youthfully exuberant ‘fun-in-the-sun’ vibes The Beach Boys were known for. Heady stuff, which few could relate to – at least until everyone went glum in the ‘70s, and many more in the decades that followed. Brian Wilson just got there first.

Scuba - Personality

Hotflush Recordings: 2012

Did anyone honestly figure Personality a sell-out? I know the move away from dubstep on Scuba's part would have alienated the hardest of his core followers of the time, but surely not the scene at large, primarily hearing of Mr. Rose only as another hyped named from the super-trendy Hotflush Recordings print. Not a terrible distinction, but if he was to extend his career beyond the rigid, insular fandom that dubstep had cultivated, he’d have to abandon it altogether. Fortunately, his style was already drifting down a different path anyway – heck, his ‘dubstep by way of Detroit’ music was what stood him out in the first place. So bemoan if you must that he never took ‘post-future-garage-step’ any further before being seduced by tech-house, but take heart that all DJs end up playing house eventually.

Personality isn’t a house record (shock!), but it isn’t a gritty techno one either. Rather, it’s a throwback to the earliest days of techno, when the Belleview Three and their immediate successors pictured the future as a funky, fun, and wondrous place rather than a bleak, dystopian one. There’s no hiding Scuba’s inspiration on this album, as anyone with elementary knowledge of the genre’s history shouldn’t have much difficulty in spotting the influences and nods to the forefathers (Hints? Well, Action sounds quite a bit like- hm, no, I don’t think I’ll ruin your trainspotting fun after all).

The good news is Scuba capably keeps his music sounding about as contemporary as ‘80s Detroit techno through UK-bass lenses can, working in bits and pieces of future garage’s stylistic markers. There’s crackly vinyl effects (Underbelly, Gekko), singing soul sista’s floating on past memories (Dsy Chn, Tulips), and even a ‘proper’ dubstep cut in Cognitive Dissonance for your half-step, wobble-bassline fix. It’s not all Detroit either, July coming on more like a Herbie Hancock cut than anything from Metroplex; elsewhere, NE1BUTU falls deep into the raver’s unabashed anthem E-hole, replete with rolling piano licks and sweet-smelling vocal Vicks (??). Nothing gets lost in nostalgia glaze or respectful homage either, the production cutting edge and crisp.

In fact, I think he goes too far in the mastering department. This is one loud album – not in a brick-walled manner as so much pop music goes, but in how much punch it carries. Even with headphones, you feel the weight of these beats, and though Scuba provides plenty of sonic separation with his samples and synths, it’s all front-and-center, directly in your audio face. Imagine watching a High Definition version of O.G. Robocop at a wide-screen theatre in neck breaking middle-seats of Row 2. It looks awesome, but is a bit much to take in at that range.

If that’s the only major gripe against Personality, however, then who gives a flip? The only other complaint I can think of is if you’re dead against anything Scuba makes that isn’t dubstep. Hey, at least you get broken-beats on this album. You sure ain’t hearing that from his sets anymore.

Aes Dana - Perimeters

Ultimae Records: 2011

Ultimae’s has four acts generally considered the label’s main roster: Aes Dana, Asura, Solar Fields, and Carbon Based Lifeforms (can Miktek be an honorary fifth now?). I’ve mentioned before that Mr. Villuis’ material doesn’t quite do it for me like the rest, but it took me a while to figure out why. His albums often lack big musical moments identifiable to his style, an element that can elevate an LP to George Takei levels of “Oh my…!” Asura will have a composition with stunning orchestral arrangements demanding of a major blockbuster, Solar Fields will have emotional high points that’ll melt your heart to mush, and CBL always find clever ways of making clinical ambient techno sound full and vibrant. Aes Dana though, I dunno. I struggle to recall any distinct pieces of music like I do MOS 6581, Sol or Halley’s Road.

For the longest time, I figured it was simply a case of Aes Dana lagging behind his compatriots in song craft ability. I mean, not everyone can be the best-of-the-best, and there's no shame in taking up the rear in a group of awesome talent – someone's gotta' play the part of Ringo, after all. Listening to Perimeters, however, I realized the reason for his lack of huge musical moments is entirely due to the style he cultivates. The dark, brooding synths, touches of gothic atmosphere, and rhythms owing some influence to trance's industrial roots - all great in creating a seductive mood maintained throughout the duration of an album's run-time. Shoehorning an epic climax or ear-wormy mega-hook would go against the Aes Dana stylee, and all the more power to Mr. Villuis for resisting the temptation to go outside that zone. It would only sound unnecessary and out of place.

*Phew*… it was a mouthful, but I had to get that nagging quandary solved. Hell, I still may come back to it with the next Aes Dana album I review, but I think I’ve finally got it covered why I do enjoy his music, yet always have difficulty recalling specifics. Okay, time to finally discuss Perimeters, then.

His fifth album, this one hints at a few new organic approaches to his style - opener Anthrazit has orchestral work, In Between features heavily treated pianos, and The Missing Worlds works a bit of acoustic guitar in. For the most part though, we’re dealing with an upbeat trance LP, tracks like Resin, In Between, Heaven Report, and the titular cut going at a brisk prog-psy pace. Most of the rhythms are rather clicky-minimalist too, though not to such a degree that it renders the music sterile – Aes Dana has more than enough evocative synths and pads at his disposal to ever let that happen. A few tracks start on the downtempo side before upping the BPMs, while others are content remaining in ambient drone’s territory. All said, a good album for those who like the dancier side of Ultimae. I know there’s a few of you out there.

Harold Budd & Brian Eno - The Pearl

Editions EG: 1984/1987

Most everyone is familiar with Harold Budd and Brian Eno’s first collaboration, if nothing else because it served as the second in Eno’s seminal Ambient series. Less familiar is The Pearl, released during that period of the ‘80s when Eno and Daniel Lanois were hanging out a bunch, making soundtracks for Apollo missions and awakening sleepers (but before elevating U2’s musical presence to the godly realms).

For that reason, I keep thinking this is the score to an obscure art film that aired on BBC or PBS. I picture a haggard galleon captain, writing in his log book as twilight has settled. His only light is a single candle at his desk, and a pale glow of a near-half moon filtering through his window. An inner monolog intones bleak loneliness, uncertain of his futile mission of travelling incognito along the Spanish Main hunting for dwindling supplies of precious pearls. Why are they pillaging wondrous tropical islands for an Empire having difficulty sustaining these expeditions? What news of his wife and family back home, what with war brewing on mainland Europe? Half his crew remains discontent, hushed whispers of mutiny leaking through the ship’s wet, wooden floors. Existential historical drama at its finest, 8pm this Friday on your local public station.

So that may or may not have been what Budd and Eno were envisioning when crafting The Pearl (I’ll wager ‘not bloody likely’), but the beauty of this album is it can represent whatever you wish. That said, there’s definitely a lonely tone throughout, Budd’s delicate piano work enhanced by wispy synth echoes and ghostly reverb. At times, it feels as though notes linger in the air forever, your ears wandering the vast stretches of seeming emptiness before another gentle bit of piano plays out. There’s never any urgency in this music, though sometimes a looming feeling of disquieting unease permeates the atmosphere. Screw the historical drama, this is a perfect soundtrack for writing modern-epic Russian literature in the dead of Siberian winter.

The Pearl is a lovely collection of music, but unfortunately has little else to detail. Budd’s on the piano, Eno’s on the subtle synths, and Lanois’ on the treatments. Each track only lasts a few minutes, none breaching the five-minute mark, which is nice in keeping the music thematically tight within each composition – no meandering dithering on this album, my friends. A couple tracks make use of natural sound effects, like dripping water in A Stream With Bright Fish, distant calls of the wild in Dark-Eyed Sister, or night-time critters in An Echo Of Night. Also, Budd doesn’t always lead with piano, Against The Sky sounding like he uses a soft organ.

Given how much minimalist ambient material Eno’s put out over the years, it’s all too daunting diving into his extended works and collaborations, especially albums that aren’t at the peak of recommendation lists. As The Pearl comes from his golden ambient period though, definitely check this one out if you’ve started past the essentials.

Beastie Boys - Paul's Boutique

Capitol Records: 1989

Licensed To Ill is the Beastie Boys album you're supposed to have, even if you're not much of a Beastie Boys fan; or rather, if you're not much of a hip-hop fan. Those 808 beats were fine so long as thrashing guitars are right around the corner, and the Boys themselves were easy enough to follow as lyricists. It's a 'rawk' album in rap's clothing, and perfectly safe for unwilling strollers near urban music. However, if you do fancy yourself a proper hip-hop consumer, then Paul's Boutique is unquestionably the Beastie Boys album you're supposed to have, full-stop.

As is so often the case with these seminal records though, Paul's Boutique was a commercial dud compared to the Beastie's debut. Mind, it wasn't entirely their fault, many factors contributing to public indifference: losing the Def Jam deal, bringing on relative unknown producers called The Dust Brothers, gangsta rap becoming the new hotness, getting stereotyped as nothing more than a bunch of punk brats, going too artistically ambitious before the world of music was ready for it. God damn, 1989 was square.

The truth of the matter – and what everyone came to realize after the fact – was Paul’s Boutique took the concept of sample-heavy hip-hop to unprecedented levels. The Bomb Squad of Public Enemy were already doing crazy new things, but the Beastie-Dust dynamic strolled right back into hip-hop’s yard, dropped a flat of cardboard at everyone’s feet, and busted out the freshest moves on the scene, giving everyone notice that the game had officially been taken to the next level (wait, I’m getting my pillars mixed up). The album soon became an underground hit (lack of sales will do that), earning them the respect of hip-hop’s elite, and solidifying their status as rap artists of equal peer.

Paul’s Boutique’s also one of the finest ‘Americana’ records around. Obviously that’s in large part to the Dust Brothers’ liberal sampling, finding room for funk (Shake Your Rump, Car Thief, Hey Ladies), throwback 808-hop (High Plains Drifter), rock (Looking Down The Barrel Of The Gun), blues (To All The Girls), country hoe-down (5-Piece Chicken Dinner), goofball yokel nonsense (The Sounds Of Science), and movie scores (Egg Man). Okay, some of these are just samples, but it’s in there, making this album a collage of all the weird things you can find across the lower 49-States (Hawaiian folk music’s gotta’ be in there somewhere). Imagine browsing a mythical Paul’s Boutique pawn shop with all sorts of silly American cultural artefacts in crowded narrow aisles, located in the most meltingly pot of Brooklyn neighbourhoods. That’s what listening to this album is like.

Lyrically, the boys stepped up their game too (The Sounds Of Science invented nerdcore!), but they still find time for hitting on girls, carefree shenanigans and causing mischief. So if you’re one of those “only Licensed To Ill, yo” types, give this one a whirl too. How can you hate on a song about throwing eggs at people?

ACE TRACKS: March 2014

Ah yes, the “Sykonee Listens To Ishkur’s Old CDs” month. And that was only the last-half! Prior to that, it was all those Mixed Goods CDs of mine, and a few odds and ends of weird variety before that. We got ourselves a fun one, folks, for ACE TRACKS: March 2014!



Full track list here.

MISSING ALBUMS:
The Future Sound Of London - Environments 3
The Future Sound Of London - Environments II
Tool - Ænima
Fehrplay - Meow
And obviously all Mixed Goods, but at least a third of those tracks are available on Spotify anyway.

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 0%
Percentage of Neil Young: 0%
Most “WTF?” Track: Aqua - Roses Are Red (not for the actual song, but for how I’ve strategically placed it for maximum “WTF” potential)

Whoa, a whole month’s worth of reviews with nary a hip-hop cut or Neil Young croon. And yet, this is undoubtedly the rock-heaviest Playlist I’ve done, and am likely ever to do. There’s hard rock, arena rock, alternative rock, metal rock, other-metal rock, and grunge too. Unless I take on another friend or associate’s old CD collection, I can’t see any more Playlists veering so far off the electronic music path as this one. And yet, it never feels like the house, techno, downtempo, and experimental chill-out are shoved to the side, flowing almost seamlessly between the post-guitar-blues material. I never though FSOL and Beck needed pairing together, yet here it is - now I desperately want them to get wicked-stoned in a studio and cranking out nothing short of a double-LP of weirdness.

I feared this playlist would turn into as much of a clusterfuck as April 2014’s, but as long as you don’t mind all the rock, it’s good listening. No doubt it helps when I don’t award ACE TRACK status to full 2CD-length albums.

Kenji Kawai - 2002 Patlabor 2: The Movie "Sound Renewal"

Vap: 1993/2002

I indulge in anime every so often, but am nowhere near otaku levels (ignore that one year marathon in my early twenties, ne?), and definitely not to such a degree I'll snatch up soundtracks. Oh, there’s plenty of stunning works available should you go digging around, but I’m at best a casual watcher. Why, then, do I have the score to Patlabor 2, an anime that, while not hopelessly obscure, seldom comes up in discussion, especially musically. It's certainly no Macross, Cowboy Bebop, or [insert modern classic Sykonee should be checking out]. Heck, it's not even a Ghost In The Shell, the movie director Mamoru Oshii and composer Kenji Kawai worked on right after this one. In some ways though, Patlabor 2 is a conceptual precursor to their work on that flick. To get into those details, however, would utterly derail this review, and I’m here to talk music, not anime - you’ll have to find another site for that (I recommend Anime Abandon by Bennett “The Sage”, should he ever get around to reviewing Patlabor).

While Oshii’s gone down as one of anime’s most influential directors, it’s his partnership with Kawai that helped solidify his legacy. They share a film-making synergy similar to the likes of Burton and Elfman, in that you can’t help but think of the two in unison despite occasionally doing projects without the other’s input. Kawai’s also incredibly diverse when called upon, even within the Patlabor pantheon of movies, OVAs, and TV series. Peppy j-pop, traditional Japanese orchestral, and future-shock industrial, he finds ways molding his music as needed to fit the situation, and as Patlabor 2’s all about political intrigue and philosophical quandary in a near-future mecha-milieu, you bet we get ample amounts of the latter styles on this score.

As Oshii often makes use of montages in this movie (at least, when characters aren’t discussing the meaning of existence, or something), the music had to match the imagery in narrative drive. Thus, Asia’s slow tribal rhythm and ominous strings build upon the growing sense of unease as martial law is instilled upon Tokyo; ...with Love’s gentle pianos and pads contrast with harsh, tentative synths as Nagumo questions her allegiance between her duty and her heart; ”IXTL” trudges along a slow EBM beat and soft falsetto choir, far from the sort of music you’d expect from an action climax, but keeping in tone with the minimalist direction Oshii went with. Wait, when did this turn into a movie review too?

All well and good, but the piece I ultimately bought this soundtrack for was Unnatural City. A recurring motif throughout the movie (there’s three variations), it’s a simple bit of music, haunting discordant pads casting feelings of contemplation and doubt upon the scenes it plays. The easy comparisons are Eno and Glass, but Kawai injects just enough traditional instrumentation underneath to make this sound wholly his own. It’s also perfect for late nights when you find yourself staring out at city lights.