Andrew Heath - The Silent Cartographer

Disco Gecko: 2014

In one of the great cosmic coincidences within my music collection, CDs from Simon Heath is followed upon by a CD by Andrew Heath in my alphabetical organization of album titles. I don't think they’re related. Even more coincidentally though, they both produce ambient music. Okay, given the amount of ambient I have, it's not that great a coincidence.

Plus, they're at complete opposite ends of the ambient spectrum. S. Heath makes dark, brooding ambient as Atrium Carceri and Sabled Sun, while A. Heath makes calm, meditative ambient as, um, Andrew Heath. Also, the former has quite a few releases to his various aliases, whereas the latter has very little. Lord Discogs claims Andrew floated about in ambient obscurity with Felix Jay as Aqueous, releasing a few albums in the '90s before all musical records of him disappear until very recently. Somewhere along the way, Toby Marks got wind of his music, and signed him to his Disco Gecko label. And now you know why I'm reviewing The Silent Cartographer in the here and now. Like, if Banco de Gaia reps the chap, there's gotta' be some dope transmissions coming in from Mr. Heath (no, not signals).

After taking in this album though, I'm left puzzled by the Banco bump. The Silent Cartographer is ambient at its most traditionalist, with soothing synth tones, delicate piano touches, and occasional soft percussion. The opening titular cut, running at thirteen minutes in length, harkens back to some of Pete Namlook and Dr. Atmo’s work as Silence, lazily idling along with soft pads ebbing and flowing while various field recordings come and go. There are birds chirping, water running, boats creaking, and… repair work near the end? It’s all very relaxing though, perfect meditation music if that’s your sort of thing.

And so is the rest of the album, little variation in terms of mood and tone. The Twilight World uses pad synths with more prominence as it develops, Shoreline (Found Object) has a pleasant planetarium vibe going for it, Still Point works in a little vinyl crackle for extra warmth, and The Poet’s Dream feels ‘old-school’ with some vintage synth sounds used. For the most part though, these ten minutes pieces are led by piano, and here’s where I make the inevitable Harold Budd comparison. What, were you expecting a Hybrid Leisureland one instead? Can’t be helped, Mr. Budd casting a long shadow in the ‘piano ambient’ scene. The shorter Paper Boat sounds like something right out of his work with Brian Eno in The Pearl. Say, maybe that’s why I picked up The Silent Cartographer, figuring this album would represent the historical drama I keep believing The Pearl is based upon.

Mm, no, it’s definitely because of the Banco bump. You’d think a guy known for ethnic-fusion beats would curate artists of similar ilk to his label, but maybe Toby Marks has long had an unrealized soft spot for art house ambient too. Don’t expect Mr. Heath at a Megadog reunion though.

Sabled Sun - Signals I-III

Cryo Chamber: 2014

One does not simply let a sci-fi concept rest on its singular story, not when there is an entire world created. Simon Heath felt there was more worth exploring with his Sabled Sun concept, but wasn't keen on getting bogged down with divergent side-stories, sub-quests, or cul-de-sac tales. Enter the Signals series, digital-only compositions of hour-long ambient drone, loosely tied with the other Sabled Sun albums as companion pieces, but not integral to the main narrative – so like DLC, then?

Honestly, for as much as Mr. Heath's project intrigues me, I only had mild interest in these tracks. I barely indulge in lengthy drone of this sort as it is, preferring the genre in manageable bite-size chunks. Not to mention I remain a staunch believer in only committing hard cash to hard copies, even as the market continuously erodes the need for such mediums (however, it will never erode the ‘want’). On the other hand, unlike other fields of drone, the idea of dark space ambient has a certain allure, a suitable pairing capturing the harsh reality of desolate nothingness that is much of the cosmos. Maybe I'd check out Signals on a streaming service some day, even if I'd never get a chance to review it here.

Then I discovered a three-disc set of Signals had been released. Well, that settles that.

Though it really goes without saying, I’ll say it anyway: if you don’t care for dark droning ambient music, Signals won’t change your mind. These are about as dark and droning examples of the genre as you’ll likely find, though followers of Mr. Heath claim his work as Atrium Carceri is among the best of recent artists, so maybe this is decent starting point too.

Or maybe not. Signals I is almost an endurance test to get through, completely atonal and sonically crushing on the psyche. Running with the Sabled Sun setting, it feels like I’m trapped in orbit of a dying planet, waves of radiation bombarding me from above and below. There’s no emotional resonance here, just stark existence, unable to escape the calamity before me. Only as the droning ambience slowly recedes is a respite granted, though somehow I’m much lonelier because of it. Signals II feeds off of that feeling, also featuring a persistent humming drone throughout though much more subdued and spacious. The first twenty minutes of this track also has an intermittent high-pitched sound, like a transmission trying to pierce the desolate vast emptiness of the cosmos. The droning then changes pitch, and a similar sound briefly plays, as though finally responding to the desperate signals of before. Then nothing but the ebbing waves of drone after that. Dear lord, this is some bleak stuff.

If any of these CD-length tracks have hope it’s Signals III, where minimalist musical tones lend human emotion to the concept. Really, this is little more than a dirge, but man, after feeling such inhospitable isolation in the previous two Signals, any connectivity is welcome.

ACE TRACKS: May 2013

So, enjoying all these ‘S’ albums? It’s been nearly two months since I started with this letter, and I’m not even finished the first half of them, at least another two weeks’ worth to go before hitting a midway point. And If you think that’s hefty, you should see the alphabetical backlog that’s accumulated in that time! Holy cow, I may need a cutoff with that, lest I never find a way back to my ‘S’ albums. This was all so much easier two years ago. Remember how swiftly ‘F’ and ‘G’ flew by? I do, because I just made a playlist for ACE TRACKS: May 2013, when I was reviewing those CDs.


Full track list here.


MISSING ALBUMS:
Various - Global Underground Departures
Various - Global Underground 31: Dubfire - Taipei
Jim ‘Shaft’ Ryan - Miss Moneypenny’s Glamorous Grooves
2 Unlimited - Get Ready
Del Tha Funkee Homosapien - Funk Man (The Stimulus Package)
AK1200 - Fully Automatic

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 50%
Percentage Of Rock: 6%
Most “WTF?” Track: Nine Inch Nails - At The Heart Of It All (why does this sound like some random Aphex Twin cut?)

The hip-hop percentage is misleading, as I’ve included the entirety of Gang Starr’s Full Clip double-disc ‘best of’ at the end, which is indeed about half of the total songs in this playlist. Also, I’m not sure I can even qualify the selected rock songs as rock at all. The three Police entries find Sting pushing the limits of what a rock song could be in a New Wave world, and the NIN cuts (re: remixes) are definitely out of leftfield here. This was also another rather short Playlist sans Gang Starr, that May eaten up by plenty more double-disc entries (two NIN albums, a GU, plus another 2CD DJ mix). I’m surprised this came together as capably as it did, what with moody ambient music, tech-doff house, and psy trance all mixing things up. Well, the opening portion anyway.

Filter - Short Bus

Reprise Records: 1995

It’s been a long while since I dealt with any of Ishkur’s old CDs. Okay, there’s been a scattered few that had actual ‘techno’ on it (win an Ishkur t-shirt if you guess which ones!), but nada from his pre-rave days. I bring this up because it’s the only reason why I’m reviewing Filter’s debut album today. Obviously I’d never have bought this for myself, though the possibility of it being a gift from an aunt always lingered. Seemed every guy I knew who had some hard rock or alternative rock or industrial rock collection had Short Bus in their CD pile. You couldn’t escape it, even in store shelves long after Filter had faded from public discourse. You’d spot it in ‘90s rock retrospectives, the cover art distinct and memorable. Yet, beyond one major track, does anyone recall any of the tunes off this? I sure don’t.

Yeah, yeah, not like I should know of Filter’s work, since their music scene was well outside my interest. Hear their music I did though, primarily because their brand of Nine Inch Nails metal made for ample edgy soundtrack fodder. In fact, they were tapped for the lead single off Spawn, collaborating with The Crystal Method on (Can’t You) Trip Like I Do. Right, ‘collaborating’ is used very loosely here – more like sang over an existing Crystal Method cut, but Spawn was one big ‘yawn’ anyway, amirite?

Point being, Filter’s the sort of alternative rock one easily identifies with a specific era of music. That post Trent Reznor, pre Limp Bizkit sweet spot of aggressive distortion, angst-filled singing, yet just enough strength of songcraft to take it seriously enough. Like I said, perfect for goth-inspired movies such as The Crow, Demon Knight, Valentine, The X-Files, 3000 Miles To Graceland (huh?), The Cable Guy (wait), and Little Knicky (oh come on).

Short Bus, then. I guess it’s good. Hey Man, Nice Shot, the opener tune about R. Budd Dwyer’s suicide, I most certainly have heard, because that song was on nearly every alt-metal compilation you could think of. MTV Buzz Bin, Family Values Tour 1999, Freedom Sucks Vol. 2, The Next Generation, Absolute 90’s, plus a number of those soundtracks listed above. Most of the tunes off Short Bus sound like it, some a little sludgier, some a little brisker, all heavy with distortion and shouty lyrics. I’d make a quip about how all industrial metal sounds the same, but Nine Inch Nails sounds pretty different song to song, and it’s not like ninety-percent of techno isn’t recyclable either. One thing I do like is the requisite acoustic tunes (Stuck In Here, So Cool) have a neat bit of distortion fuzz playing in the background. Like, some sort of sonic sift or sieve.

For as hopelessly ‘90s as Filter come across, they’ve managed a career lasting to this date. Good for them, I say, though one ride on the Short Bus is all I need for my Filter fix.

Magda - She's A Dancing Machine

M_nus: 2006

Magda is Madgdalena Chojnacka, a very important person in the world of techno. Because she’s a woman, see. And women don’t do techno apparently, but she does, making her important. Bunch of hogwash far as I’m concerned – the likes of Ellen Allien has long made a mark on the predominantly Boys-Only club of clubbing culture, with plenty more female jocks rising in prominence this past decade. Magda though, she had the benefit of being pals with Richie F’n Hawtin, the most very important person in the world of techno during the mid-‘00s. Despite being long time friends even before moving to Berlin, she got tagged as something of a hanger-on, also a bunch of hogwash as far as I’m concerned. So she benefited from being part of M_nus’ inner circle. At least she came out of the minimal fiasco with some integrity intact (unlike too many others I won’t namedrop).

For one thing, she never flooded the market with material, sticking to the touring circuit and letting the great M_nus hype machine do the rest. Smart idea, what with the minimal scene quickly growing flooded with plink-plonk nonsense and dry-as-dirt DJ mixes. There was always something just a little more unique about her sets though, a bit of funkiness in a typically sterile environment. Come see the cute DJ, stay because she’s got your feet locked on the floor!

When Magda finally did put her name to a physical format though, she went out of her way to challenge the norm, following in the Plastikman’s footsteps in rethinking the idea of what a DJ mix could be. She’s A Dancing Machine lists seventy-one tracks in its list, all cut, looped, spliced and Ableton’d onto a single CD. Yes, it’s minimal techno, but this is how such music is best served, using snippets, bits, and pieces for an icy cool mix. Things are constantly shifting and changing, all the while maintaining a sense of forward momentum without getting lost in monotonous effects wank. For the love of an 808, I cannot understand why so many minimal mixes don’t do this. DJs will layer once or thrice, but always in a clinical manner, seldom with the same sense of loose groove Magda employs here. I don’t doubt constructing sets of this sort takes a ridiculous amount of time, so it’s easier to just do the standard mix CD of lining up your tracks of similar genre origin. Compared to She’s A Dancing Machine though, such sets are a right bore, far too safe and predictable. Here, I’m constantly engaged by every little quick twist and turn played.

Okay, this still are mostly serious minimal techno, with all the familiar names of that era popping in. Magda’s debut mix CD won’t convince you to check this music further once you’ve long written it off. If you’ve a little curiosity over what that scene’s big fuss was though, She’s A Dancing Machine is one of the better offerings available to soak your ears in.

Chris Duckenfield - Sheffield Mix Sessions

Turbo Recordings: 2001

Way back in the long ago time, when Lord Discogs had yet to achieve its deity prominence among all things electronic music databased, Chris Duckenfield was as mysterious to me as the planet Pluto (woo, timely namedrop!). For the longest time, this lone mix on Turbo Recordings was his only entry, baffling a decade-younger Sykonee to no end. Why had Tiga tapped this virtual unknown for a DJ mix? After scouring Scandinavia, what prompted him commissioning a jock from the UK? Who on Earth was Chris Duckenfield, and what relationship did he have with the Montreal label? How has a guy with such a class mix CD on the market gone so unnoticed? Is he just some Sheffield local with a die-hard following, or has he done anything else of note, even in his native country? And why is there some screwy mixing going on in this set?

To answer that last question, the track indexing on this CD is gibbled. The mix from #9 occurs at #11, plays as normal through #12, while the expectant mix from there has already blown by at #10. I’d give titles but with things as wonk as they are, I haven’t a clue which is what, though I can definitely confirm that Symbiosis’ Oxygen is a mint cut within all this. Was it just my copy of Sheffield Mix Sessions with this error though? If not, poor form, Turbo, I trusted you. Chris Duckenfield trusted you!

Okay, back to Mr. Duckenfield. Despite Vassal Discogs not having much info in 2003, ol’ Chris’ profile has filled out nicely since those dark days. He’s apparently been around since the early rave days, producing along with Richard Benson as RAC, releasing an album on Warp in their formative years. Following that he teamed up with Richard Brown (Chris loves his Richards) to form Swag and release two LPs and a bundle of EPs to this day. Then there’s a ceaseless DJ career, and my mind boggles as to why Sheffield Mix Sessions remains his lone entry. Did Tiga have to twist Chris’ arm to even get this out of him? Man, they could have at least offered a snappy bio in the CD’s inlay.

As for this mix, we get ourselves a good ol’ deep session of house music direct from the tasteful times of 2001. The opening portion features names like Nigel Hayes, Jazzanova, and Morgan Geist, with a vibe that’ll have you itching to cruise out in a Mitsubishi. And even with a fucked-up track index, the middle portion of Chris’ mix is still good funky, deep tech-house fun. The final sequence goes for the tribal dub business that was quite popular with the serious house heads of the time, and would sadly fall out of favour when all things minimal became the norm. Hmm, I wonder if Duckenfield fell in lockstep with that trend too. Considering he released a 2006 single called Modern House Is Rubbish under his Duckbeats alias, I suspect not.

Juno Reactor - Shango

Metropolis: 2000

Shango is about as transitional an album as a transitional album can get. Not that we were aware of it back when Juno Reactor dropped his fifth LP in the year 2000, though one could definitely suspect Ben Watkins leaving his psy trance legacy in the dust. Bible Of Dreams already hinted at a muse looking for new roads to travel, fresh genres to explore. Maybe he'd start dabbling in that burgeoning psy dub thing, or take a stab at another ambient concept album. Ooh, industrial rock and big beat is still popular, especially with movie soundtracks – why not make a few tunes geared for TVT's latest cyberpunk thriller?

I don’t know about that, but hearing some of his Bible cuts featured in movies and video games must have given Mr. Watkins a shot of inspiration, envisioning his music in cinematic terms rather than outdoor party fodder. It's the only explanation I have for opening Shango with a track stampeding out of a Robert Rodriguez grindhouse Western. Pistolero's got the flamenco guitars, Mexican samples, bank robberies, and a ton of energy to spare, desperado rhythms furiously galloping across the arid lands of Chihuahua. No matter what you thought Juno Reactor might bring to this album, I highly doubt anyone figured it'd be something as off the dusty trail as Pistolero.

And then he changes gears straight after with Hule Lam, a collaboration with long-time South African traditionalist troupe Amampondo that goes deep into the tribal conga fury. Er, I honestly don't know which African ethnicity they draw their music from, though this song was oddly featured in a dancing mini-game tie-in to the movie Madagascar 2. Wait, what? Talk about licensing to the extreme. I hope none of the kids vibing on Hule Lam checked out the rest of Shango, only to have the fierce, terrifying meditative Badimo assault their senses shortly after.

If you're getting a feeling of musical whiplash with these descriptions, fret not for that's one of the problems with Shango as an album. Masters Of The Universe marks the midpoint of the album, and it’s the closest thing to a tear-out psy trance outing you’ll find. Following that are two versions of Nitrogen, the first having a lending hand from Orb members Alex Paterson and Greg Hunter for a thumping dubbed-out excursion, the second more of a conventional industrial-trance tune (with some mint drum fills thrown in throughout!). And while you can always count on a nice ambient closure on most albums, Shango ends with two, neither having much to do with each other. Solaris is a dark ambient outing with chants and such, while Song Of Ancestors comes off like the credits sequence to whatever movie Watkins had in mind for Pistolero.

That’s Shango in a nutshell: an LP with many great ideas and cool tunes, but little holding it together. Come Labyrinth, Watkins would tie his inspirations into cohesive whole, but here he’s figuring out just how far he can take Juno Reactor.

Various - Shadow: Hed Sessions 2

Shadow Records: 2002

What's that, you say? You don't care about Shadow Records' genre explorations and just want to kick back with some down low funky urban vibes? First off, props to you for being that dedicated to defunct label to even have developed such standards. I didn't even know y'all existed out there. Hell, I was surprised to find any Shadowheads even when they were in business. Folks knew of them, sure, but more as an outlet for older releases from Ninja Tune, DJ Cam, or Kruder & Dorfmeister – only hardcore fans of trip-hop and jazz-funk gave the label's massive extended roster much notice, and even then plenty of names slipped through the cracks. Goo needs more love, yo'!

Where was I going with this? Oh, right Hed Sessions. This was the sort of compilation that served Shadow Records best, focusing on the sound that made the label’s breaded butter while throwing the spotlight on acts that had fallen through the downtempo cracks. Hell, given the massive size of the that scene and all its variant genres (trip-hop, illbient, acid jazz, nu-jazz, dub, funk-fusion, abstract-step, sprockets), it’s more of a chasm than a crack producers could disappear down. Forget the obsessive techno collectors, I’d like to see someone gather all there is in this field of electronic music!

The first Hed Sessions did as the Hard Sessions did with two tracks per five selected artists. Hed Sessions 2 mixes things up a little by drawing upon more artists instead. There’s also a repeat from the previous volume, in that Saru (Steve Branson) appears again, though in remixed form. Wait, Subterra already was remixed on Hed Sessions, and now we get another remix of that track in Hed Sessions 2? Damn, pimp your own acts much, Shadow? Whatever, the dubbed out version of Suck In Love’s good stuff. Why am I talking about Hed Sessions as though I’ve already reviewed it?

By the by, Blend is on here thrice. Once offering a remix of Greg Long’s Economic Freedom, and getting remixed himself by DJ DRM in Addicted and Greg Long for All That Dub. Ah, a little ‘I remix you, you remix me’ action going on here. And for the love of dub, I hope y’all remember me mentioning Blend some twenty months ago (!) – his Echo Warrior album is exactly the sort of thing I was blabbering on about above there.

Other tracks on Hed Sessions 2 include trip-groove hoppin’ Goldiggin’ from Cordovan, jazz-funk hop of Banana Jazz Hop from Toye, floating jazz-dub vibes of Nikita’s Dream from Swirlbent, and space ‘n’ spliff turntable action of Darkness from Raging Family. If you recognize most these names, you either know them personally, or already have this CD, because this is literally the only place Lord Discogs recognizes them. Still, though walking the same paths Mo’Wax and Ninja Tune had long treaded, these are all fine tunes, definitely deserving of more exposure even if the artists aren’t around any longer.

Various - Shadow: Hard Sessions

Shadow Records: 2001

When Shadow Records started their big push out of underground obscurity, they knew more markets than their traditional blazed-out audience needed attention. Fine and all continuing the promotion of trip-hop, illbient (aka: trippier hop), and abstract jazz funk, but geez, look at all the bank house, trance, and techno was making too. It wouldn't hurt to dabble a little in those scenes, would it? No, not at all. Just set up a couple new compilation series as an introduction, offer them up at a reduced rate to entice the curious, and scour the lands of America for talent interested in a record deal. Search high and low for them too, oh Shadow lords, even the backwaters of northwestern British Columbia (yes, this did happen!).

Hard Sessions was set up as the label's showcase of the more aggressive acts within Shadowland’s sphere of interest. While mostly overlooked d'n'b (though ASC makes an early career appearance in Hard Sessions 2!), in a move that surprised many, this first volume features techno from Dietrich Schoenemann, a veteran of the ambient and experimental circuit. He'd released material on Shadow's ambient parent label Instinct, so it's not like ol' Diets was a complete unknown, but what's he doing here on Hard Sessions? For that matter, what's he doing offering up head-down pulsing techno workouts with his two tracks here, Dark Sight and Autumn Ground? The former thumps with all the minimalist fury of a Jeff Mills cut, and the latter goes for the dark, tribal jugular of a 4am bender in a dank warehouse. It’s not the hard, bangin’ shit, but it’s solid stuff, and totally at odds with everything else on Hard Sessions. Hey, I appreciate Shadow’s attempt at subjecting die-hard junglists to something outside their comfort zone, but maybe an entirely different compilation dedicated to techno would have been a better option.

Including the two Dietrich cuts, ten tracks make up this compilation, two per artist. The artists range from the highly prolific to the hopelessly obscure. For instance, Hard Sessions opens with smooth flowing tech-step ofSo Dark Now from Magnetic, or David Harrow to Lord Discogs. He had two albums on Shadow Records, plus a few more LPs following that label’s folding. Then there’s the other work David Harrow’s accomplished as High Stepper, Technova, Oicho... holy cow, does this guy have a huge discography! Then there’s Illform (Quentin Allen), who only released but one album of d’n’b with Shadow, though had a little more success with deep house as Karu after. Quite a contrast there, mang’.

Hanna, another prolific producer, provides more d’n’b with a jazzy bent, while weirdo cybernetic, abstract, broken-jungle one-shot group Droid rounds out the rest. No, really, I can’t think of any other way to describe Droid. It’s like Amon Tobin’s more spastic moments fed through a Detroit jazz factory. Worth a listen just to believe. So is Hard Sessions too, if you ever stumble upon it on the cheap. Discover a few great producers in the process!

The Beatles - Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band

Parlaphone: 1967/2009

The only Beatles album you’re supposed to have, even if you’re not much of a Beatles fan. If you’re a totally predictable, cliché music collector anyway. Most folks don’t bother with the albums, getting any number of the greatest hits packages for their Beatles fix and calling it a day. Sgt. Pepper’s though, we’re told is a must have, an essential have, resting at the peak of a rock ‘n’ roll mountain of Very Important Albums. So get it folks do, because why not, it’s got cool songs on it like A Little Help From My Friends, Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds, and the epic A Day In The Life. I think everybody’s day should end with a massive piano chord slowly ebbing away as sleep takes you over.

Yet I wonder how many actually play the whole album through. Any Beatles fanatic obviously does – to not indulge their concept LP in its entirety is punishable by eternal Yoko yodeling. Do casuals have much care for George Harrison’s complete dive into Indian meditation music in Within You Without You though? Do the screaming fangirls of yore suddenly fantasize becoming a meter-maid, thus wooing the fancy of McCartney in Lovely Rita? Did a bunch of starry-eyed hippies marvel at the production ingenuity of carnival funfair ode Being For The Benefit Of Mr. Kite? I somehow suspect not, Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band faring no better than any other number of Beatles albums of their studio era. This album has a massive gap between songs everyone knows intimately, and songs folks would have trouble identifying as part as one of the rock music’s most beloved records. “Oh yeah, Fixing A Hole’s totally a Beatles tune, it’s off one of those white albums, right?”

I know I’m dodging a proper review of Sgt. Pepper’s, but my analysis is moot. The record is almost a half-century old, and is so thoroughly dissected by music historians, the only original angle I can offer is anecdotal. Speaking of, my road trip with my old man gave me a chance to pick his brain about many things music related, including this album he insisted we bring. He was a young teenager then, swept in by Sgt. Pepper’s unique vision, realizing the possibilities of what rock music could achieve. I can appreciate Sgt. Pepper’s impact on those terms too (plus, y’know, just vibe on all the great tunes), but to hear it described as a game-changer from someone who was actually there when the album first dropped, a wistful look in his eyes at remembering how all the old rules were shattered, does give it a fresh perspective. She’s Leaving Home’s just a nice, mellow song on a good album to my ears, but is remarkably poignant to his.

Other bands might have shown potential to do what The Beatles did with Sgt. Pepper’s, but the Liverpool Four had the access to top-end studio gear, work ethic, and commercial clout to realize such a vision first.