ACE TRACKS: March 2013

Man, how did September fly by like this? Normally I get one of these backtrack Playlists out by mid-month, yet here’s end-month rearing its head, and I’m way behind on this. I blame Spotify. No, not because another one of their updates buggered things up again, but the fact it’s running decently now, and it’s given me an opportunity to obsess over minutia in my collection. That got me itchin’ to re-organize my CDs once more, which needed some work anyway. I prefer keeping things together by music type, but I’ve gathered so many releases from particular labels now (Ultimae, Waveform, Moonshine, Fabric …um, In Trance We Trust), that it’s only right to stack them as a family too. And what of different eras of a particular genre? House alone has gone through numerous stages of development, so shouldn’t they be organized as such too? Then there’s the matter of artists and comp- ah, forget it. No wonder so many go the Big Cardboard Box In A Storage Locker route. Meanwhile, here’s some music from The Cloud that I reviewed back in March 2013.


Full track list here.

MISSING ALBUMS:
Samim - Flow
Zenith - Flowers Of Intelligence
Khooman - Is A Flexible Liquid
Carol C - First Impressions
Nobuo Uematsu - Final Fantasy VII: Original Soundtrack
The Dust Brothers - Fight Club
Various - Family Tree
Überzone - Faith In The Future

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 3%
Percentage Of Roc k: 5%
Most “WTF?” Track: The Fight Club tracks I guess, though that’s intentionally so on the Dust Brothers’ part.

Wait, I can’t put my CDs in storage. Just look at all those albums that Spotify doesn’t have! Good ones too, like Flowers Of Intelligence, Faith In The Future, Fight Club, and the OST of Final Fantasy VII! I guess Samim’s Flow was supposed to rest in that pedigree too, but as all records of his existence disappeared a year after having that summer hit, I don’t blame Spotify for not knowing of its existence. And if my digital backups suddenly go *poof* in a moment of external harddrive failure, how will I satisfy a whim in hearing Carol C’s delicious atmospheric jungle mix again? Back in the towers you all go!

As for the music that did make it, this was the month I reviewed all the Fahrenheit Projects from Ultimae, so expect a huge chunk of that. There’s also Vitalic’s Flashmob right at the very end, and scatterings of electroclash, metal, rap, and not much else. Yeah, sorry, the unavailability factor seriously nerfed the diversity of another playlist.

Coldcut - Sound Mirrors (2015 Update)

Ninja Tune: 2006

Click here to read my original TranceCritic review.

Here we are, nearly a decade since Coldcut dropped what thus far looks to be a final album. They still may make room for another – Sound Mirrors and their previous LP, Let Us Play!, had a similar gap – but I guess their muses haven't needed an indulging of the production console lately. Did they turn jaded their Big Issues Album didn't garner much impact? All the Important Messages and sloganeering amounted to one big 'meh' from club culture, to say nothing of disinterest from the rest of the music world. Not that they had much chance. Green Day couldn't do it. Dixie Chicks couldn't do it. Hell, if even Neil F'n Young couldn't get folks riled enough to impeach the President, Coldcut sure ain't gonna' turn the tide in the face of such overwhelming apathy. But ooh, look at the glowing pyramid those Daft Punk robots made. Oooh, such shiny, much jangly!

Maybe we should have listened though. Playing this ten year old collection of music and lyrics again, my God how did we ever survive the ‘00s? The world was in total collapse, decaying before our very ears as heard in A Whistle And A Prayer. Corporations were running amok, controlling our every whim (Man In A Garage), providing us absolutely soulless escapism in canned mainstream music (Just For The Kick). Government spies and spooks lurked everywhere (Boogie Man), obviously controlled by higher powers above, abroad, underneath, and ether-wheres (Everything Is Under Control). Even those who proclaim doing good in the world are shady fucks, milking and bilking the wretched for personal gains (Aid Dealer). Dear lord, no wonder poor ol' Mr. Nichols wanted to jump from a building – either all of society was doomed, or you had to flee to the outbacks and live your life as a dirty hippie, essentially isolated and in denial of global issues.

Obviously, that isn’t an accurate portrayal of the haughty Aughties. Hell, I'm sure many would argue that we're worse off now than in that cheery year of 2006, what with crippling recessions, rapid climate change, increased racial strife, and endless sectarian violence. Pity Mr. Nichols if he decided the things worrying him weren't enough to end his life. Are things truly so dire though? We got problems, no doubt, but an abundance of protest music there doth lack in our current climes. Maybe artists only get riled up when there's a Republican President.

Or perhaps with global shrinkage comes greater understanding of the world we live in. A better track off Sound Mirrors, the Robert Owens featuring Walk A Mile In My Shoes, is one of the few times the album provides an actual solution to solving issues instead of just ranting about all that’s wrong. While it may not be possible to literally live the lives of others, social media certainly gave us more access to understanding the people in such positions. And more knowledge will only help the march of progress for all. (weee! Soapboxing is fun!)

Tau Ceti - Somnium

Umbra: 2004

Tau Ceti is a star that shares spectral characteristics with the sun, and is one of the closest to our solar system. Though slightly smaller in mass, the fact it's a single-star system has tantalized many a speculative fiction author into suggesting Earth-like worlds exist there. These worlds may serve as outposts for a human race on the cusp of galaxy exploration, or they may even have life of their own. Come to think of it, Spock's home world is located in the Tau Ceti system! What's cool is astronomers have recently detected planets about Tau Ceti, though as the system is apparently clogged with debris, it’s not the most hospitable locale as we know it. Where is though, in the cosmos? Where can we as a species venture that isn't out to deep freeze us, suck us into oblivion, or shred our DNA with impossibly small, radiated projectiles? I mean, if Tau Ceti is one of the better nearby options, what would hangin' out near Sirius be like? Seriously dangerous, I don't doubt!

All of this has nothing to do with Tau Ceti, the producer, one Enrico Cosimi to the Italian Information Bureau. Okay, maybe he was inspired by the T.C. system as depicted in sci-fi stories, but far as I can tell, it's simply an alias plucked for how cool sounding it is. I’m honestly surprised it hadn’t been taken by a one-off techno or trance producer (though Lord Discogs notes a hopelessly obscure ‘80s goth band). There is a light space theme with Mr. Cosimi’s music, other releases coming with names like Frozen Planet, Pulsar, and Borealis, but that’s about par for the course when it comes to drone ambient of this sort.

Yep, once again, we’re in the realm of super-long single track albums, this time taking in something from the Umbra print, an Italian ambient label set up by the late Oöphoi. In fact, Tau Ceti often collaborated with Oöphoi, while also participating in a ‘super-group’ of sorts called Nebula that included Klaus Wiese, Mauro Malgrande, and Lorenzo Pierobon. Any ambient follower should have heard a couple of these names, most emerging in the ‘90s following in the footsteps of Steven Roach and (namedrop, namedrop, etc.), carving out a significant slice of history’s droning ambient pie. Flooding the market with limited run CDrs will do that for a label.

Somnium was part of one such flooding on Tau Ceti’s part, when he released around a half-dozen LPs in 2004 (he’d go the ‘shorter’ single track EP route after). Don’t let the cover art fool you into thinking this is some angelic New Age meditation outing, Somnium quite dark in its droning ways. Essentially four parts, the first focuses on minimalist vibrations, then morphs into a quiet, slow drone oscillation. Some forty minutes deep, it abruptly changes into layered droning timbres, then proceeds with the obligatory long fade-out. Not much going on in all then, but at least there’s some sense of progression throughout.

John O'Callaghan - Something To Live For (Original TC Review)

Discover: 2007

(2015 Update:
This was something of a flashpoint review for yours truly, where my bitter resentment of gratuitous Dutch trance and all its associated marketing and such started to wane, allowing my tentative steps back into covering the world of eurotrance. Good thing too, since that was kinda' the point of a website called TranceCritic anyway; plus, I don't know how much more dark, twisted psy trance our readers could take anyway. You can still see some of my cynicism come through, especially when I get to DJ Governor's remix of Exactly, but I was definitely more forgiving of O'Callaghan's sappier moments on this album. What's funny is I've rather softened on the remix, while I don't much care for the original Exactly anymore.

That's generally the case with much of Something To Live For though. A few moments do continue tickling the nostalgia endorphins, but the production comes off more amateur and sloppy now, especially with the all-pervasive Discover Kick. Man, a lot of trance guys were going hard with their kicks around that time. All said though, I still like this one far better than the tepid tunes off O'Callaghan's second LP, Never Fade Away. Assembler chews up Big Sky and spits it into the gutter drain, yo'.)


IN BRIEF: Quite nostalgic, I have to admit.

Trance seems to be migratory. A favored sound will spring up somewhere in Europe and that region’s style will dominate for a while. Eventually, a new region will repeat the process, usurping the previous one as the leading tastemaker, and so it goes. For a long time though, the Dutch dominated trance when they outshined (and out-market) the British, the former leaders. But as the Dutch empire begins to crumble around them, other regions have started to scramble for the coveted prize as trance’s tastemaker. At first it appeared the Germans were poised to retake their thrown after years of playing second fiddle to other nations, but their victory parade may need to be put on hold for a moment. For an unlikely upstart beckons from the northwest: the Irish! ...kind of.

Okay, really it’s just Discover Records, and half their roster is made up of Englishmen anyway. But their associates form the Isle Of Guinness Ale were responsible for a hefty chunk of the big trance singles of 2006, and you can be assured they’ll use that momentum to carry them through this year. The reason for their success is simple - or rather simplicity. They aren’t interested in grand theatrics or overwrought compositions. Discover’s trance is only out to supercharge the party with simple hooks, driving rhythms, and ‘no bullshit’ attitude. Oh, and that kick! It punches hard, and overpowers everything in its path. They’ve certainly gotten plenty of mileage out of it.

Leading the charge of Irish producers is John O’Callaghan, who through various aliases, collaborations, and remixes has built up a sizable back-catalogue these past few years. Time for a full-length album then, eh?

Opting to provide as much old and new material in this release as he can, John offers two discs: the pretentiously titled Concept CD, and a Club CD containing extended, alternate, and additional tracks, mainly for DJ usage. Since Concept is the main show though, let’s dig into that first.

Straight up, there is very little concept going on here. O’Cally has simply taken his tracks and made a makeshift DJ mix out of them. And he even doesn’t do much in that department either, only using quick cross-fades for his transitions. And in an act that will probably annoy his fans, the tracks aren’t given much breathing room, usually left in the dust in under five minutes. Yeah, basic ideas going on here. If you want a trance album with some actual concept behind it, try some L.S.G.

However, where Something To Live For succeeds is in track arrangement. Aside from the first few songs, the flow on this album is quite good. Sure, the transitions are often herky-jerky, but most of the tracks go well one after the other. Stretches of John’s techier bangers are every so often broken up with a welcome slice of epic trance, allowing their melodies to shine brilliantly. And for all you young DJs out there, this is a GOOD THING! Don’t let an epic moment be wasted by drowning it with redundancy in your mixes, kids. Space those peak tracks out.

Of course, plenty of O’Cally’s previous gems are included here: The Chamber, Vendetta, Elevator Dance-Off, and, naturally, Exactly. As for the new stuff, most of it seems made to complement this disc’s flow rather than stand out on its own; they don’t get much of a chance making an impression with these short running times. Fortunately, most of the better offerings can be found on the Club disc. How are they, you ask? Space & Time spaceily chugs and bangs, Sunday 1am tranceily drives and bangs, and Assembler grimily really fucking bangs. Er... yeah. They do bang a lot, these tracks. All of them, for that matter, and if you want more to your rhythms than pumping energy, you’ll have to look elsewhere.

This is John’s style though: simple bangin’ tech-trance. As mentioned, the kick pounds, and he’d be foolish to try and out-match it. Instead, he makes ample use of working around it with effective rhythms and supplies subtle trancey hooks or throbbing riffs to complement them; the few times any melody takes the lead is usually in a collaboration. And none of this is terribly innovative either. In fact, aside from the better production values (re: shit be louder, son!), a great deal of the material on Something To Live For sounds like it could have been produced in 1998, right down to the same synths. You’d be forgiven for thinking this was some kind of throwback album, right down to the cheesy cover.

But you know what? Even though I’ve often been critical of others for not moving with the times, it’s actually okay here. If you’re going to tap a former year of trance for your inspiration, you could do far worse than 1998. Trance in those days was doing just fine: hooks were catchy, rhythms had power, and breakdowns were far from the ridiculous lengths they would become. John seems to be fully aware of how important keeping some semblance of momentum in your tracks is during a lull. This is probably how trance would be sounding had that whole Dutch wave never occurred (incidentally, not that different from Paul van Dyk’s older style, so I guess the Germans are still poised to take over after all).

If you need proof of how much better this simpler form of trance is over the bloated forms that would come later, look no further than the big hit on here, Exactly. The original produced by O’Cally and Bryan Kearny is a classic epic tune, with a simple catchy melody introduced without dawdling on the way to get to it, and neither milking the moment with grotesque theatrics. And on the Club disc, we have DJ Governor’s remix, and it’s a bloated beast indeed. Like so much Dutch trance, there are tons of extraneous whooshes and washes all over the place, very little of which serves much purpose. Eventually the full-stop breakdown starts, and it lasts a long time before we’re back into the action - I lost count after the three minute mark. During the breakdown, Governor introduces an additional wanky guitar bit that is horrid. His remix is only salvaged once Exactly’s main hook is finally - finally - brought in during the build, and even then all the fluff dilutes its effectiveness. This is a pompous piece of trance bombast that anyone with a clue will see right through. *whew*

So, with all this in mind, should you get John O’Callaghan’s debut album? Simply put, he doesn’t overreach his bounds, and serves up his bangin’ trance as is; it’s a fun disc to throw on if you prefer the simpler techier side of trance. So long as you don’t think too much about The Big Picture and let the beats to do their job, Something To Live For will serve you fine.

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

Dieselboy - A Soldier's Story

Moonshine Music: 1999

Few DJs are as influential in America's jungle scene as Dieselboy. There were some respectable names, sure, but as most d'n'b trends were dictated by the hierarchy of the UK, any rinser in the lands of eagles were obligated to follow suit. For the most part, so did one Damien Higgins, but as tech-step of yore started its morph into darkstep of yaye, the Dieslely One somehow turned those aggressive sounds into his own, rising to the high ranks of all jungle jocks throughout the Western Hemisphere. Few could match his furious mixing skills and relentless track selection, often hoarding all the best, unreleased material from the genre's elite (Technical Itch, Decoder, Dom & Roland, etc.). Of course, it didn't hurt he was among the first to truly push darkstep as jungle's future, setting himself apart from his contemporary late adopters. Savvy move on his part, that particular style still finding plenty of fans fifteen years on.

Making his debut with America’s former preeminent electronic music label Moonshine Music is A Soldier’s Story ...kinda’. Though much of Dieselboy’s early career was marked by the mixtape circuit, he released a couple CDs as well, though most flew well under the radar. One was even released on Philly-based Sixeleven Records, a print almost entirely known for house music. Another came care of Sub Base Records, but as Moonshine handled their distribution, that could technically be considered Mr. Higgins’ first major exposure. But no, this one, right here, right then, was Dieselboy’s proper coming out party for the greater U.S. of A. (plus Canadaland), ready to stand toe-to-toe with other American favourites like AK1200 and DJ Dara. He, um, didn’t quite knock it out of the park.

Oh, A Soldier’s Story definitely is a manifesto on Dieselboy’s part, coming in early with the burgeoning neurofunk style before letting a few Tech’ Itch cuts drop serious damage on your ears. Jump up is dead. Jazzstep is dead. All the old jungle genres are dead; obey your darkstep overlords. Jonny L and Danny Breaks can join in the celebration feast though. Some of the scene’s newer blood also make appearances with DJ Friction, Markus Intalex (or ‘Mark Da Intallex’ as he’s credited here), and, um, Kosheen. Hey, it was Decoder’s pet, that group, and we at least get a proper fierce remix on Yes Man for that cut. It’s also about as ‘vocal’ as A Soldier’s Story gets – Dieselboy ain’t having none of that sing-along E-Z Rollers anthemy shite, mate.

So a solid set in the darkstep mold, but that’s pretty much all it is straight through, little variation or twists thrown our way. That’s fine if you just want a pummelling CD, but a strong, memorable mix knows when to drop tangents without losing flow. Some might suggest that’s just the way Dieselboy does things, but his follow-up mix for Moonshine, System_Upgrade, did provide those spicy variants, making for a much stronger CD in the process. Damn, wish I still had that one.

Photek - Solaris

Virgin: 2000

Photek’s Solaris is almost legendary in how it divided a jungle nation. It didn’t have to be so. Drum ‘n’ bass was in fine shape at the turn of the millennium, though could have used more of Mr. Parkes’ refined approach to the craft of intelligent tech-step drum programming. Despite a few doing their own spin on the Photek stylee, (word to the Source Direct crew, yo'), other producers weren’t replicating it en masse. Still, for as generally healthy the d'n'b scene was, it had lost much of the commercial and critical clout it once earned in the '90s, Mr. Parkes' absence perhaps partly responsible for those dwindling times. That junglists were expecting- nay, counting upon another Modus Operani to remind the general club 'n' rave populace of their chosen sound's supreme standing is understandable. No less so, then, the betrayal many felt when Photek said nuts to all that, going his own way down paths no true junglists ever dared ventured.

An ocean and sky blue cover notwithstanding, fans had to suspect something was up when lead single Terminus dropped. Also the opener on Solaris, it’s a seriously funky outing with banging and clanking drum work, sounding more like some of Orbital’s output than much of Photek’s prior work (seriously though, that bass drop in the middle!). Infinity was more in line with the sort of tech-step d’n’b heads enjoyed from Mr. Parkes though, so perhaps the full album would offer up more like it. Oh, such innocent thoughts those were.

Second track Junk carries on with the Terminus style, though creeping much closer to techno’s realm than Photek had wandered before. Then Glamourama hits and, oh my God, it’s a house beat! How dare he! How dare he! How dare he? Wait, why is my head bobbin’? Ergh, argh, must. Resist. Deep. Groove.

Haha, foolish junglist, Photek has you in his house clutches now, and to keep you there, here’s Mine To Give, as vintage a Chicago throwback as you could get in the year 2000, including a guest vocal from Robert Owens, a singer featured on many classic Trax Records tracks. As if throwing a bone to the ‘deebee’ faithful, Can’t Come Down gets back to the d’n’b side of things, though on a much chiller scale than anything heard in the Photek discography before. Was he daring LTJ Bukem to play one of his records? The second half of Solaris isn’t nearly as dynamic as the first, if anything flickering down with more claustrophobic house (Solaris) and trip-hop (Halogen, Lost Blue Heaven), but hoo, what an impression side one imparted.

Of course, given this would be the last Photek album for over a decade, the vitriol leveled on Solaris faded, folks wondering if he’d ever drop another LP again. Mr. Parkes would occasionally return to jungle in that time, and his genre explorations garnered him more respect abroad for taking such a chance with his music, succeeding even in the face of predictable backlash.

AstroPilot - Solar Walk III: Event Horizon

Altar Records: 2014

Why settle for one sequel when you can make a trilogy out of a concept? Hell, an entire franchise if one is so bold, though such projects are usually reserved for DJ mixes, not artist albums. Here we are though, now three albums deep into AstroPilot's Solar Walk endeavour, where the ambient side of Mr. Redko's muse gets to roam wild and free. And as I mentioned in the previous two Solar Walk reviews, if you prefer your trapstyle with wailing disco divas in a techno dungeon, then what the Hell are you doing looking at a psy-chill release?

Solar Walk 2 would be a difficult one to top, taking successful elements of the first and refining them into pure sonic excellence. It wouldn’t be a demerit in Dmitriy’s discography if he repeated that album – ample amounts of grand space ambient drone, with a couple outings in psy-chill’s more rhythmic styles for flavour. Heck, he might even taken the concept to a whole new level. Like, beyond the limit of our understanding in the realms of musical reality, where time and timbre have no meaning. Why, you might even call it crossing the sonic event horizon! Then again, if AstroPilot could achieve such a feat, I’m not sure how I’d be capable of listening to Solar Walk III in the first place. Should my feeble cochlea hope to comprehend of music of this calibre?

Obviously this album is nothing like that. A bit surprising though, is the fact Mr. Redko did change the format, going strictly ambient all the way through for his third constitutional across stellar photons. It’s also a different sort of ambient than to the previous Solar Walks, comparatively darker and subtle as though he’s finally succumb to what ‘proper’ space ambient should sound like. None of this massive, wall-of-synth opulence of the cosmos, but humbling respect of the impossibly vast emptiness that truly encompasses the universe.

Okay, we’re not dealing with Lustmord levels of bleakness here. AstroPilot still skilfully paints his sonic canvas with layered pads, harmonized synths, and even adds melodic moments that could serve as minor leitmotifs were this translated to the visual medium. Yet whereas Solar Walk and its sequel sold the notion of space as a place rapturous and inviting, Event Horizon firmly reminds us how limited humanity truly is in the grand scheme of things. There’s still wonders to behold, but damn if we’re gonna’ struggle to unravel them all. Titles like Millions Lights Years Away, Distant Worlds, Farscape, Whiff Of Eternity, and even Relict Emanation help sell this concept to a tee’.

As for what prompted Mr. Redko into such a drastic change in his Solar Walk project, he lists Event Horizon as something of a tribute to the ambient composers that inspired his own musical development. This includes classic names like Eno, Roach, and Boddy, to more recent ones like Biosphere, Alio Die, and ...Bad Sector? Oh man, add another producer I gotta’ dig onto The List.

AstroPilot - Solar Walk 2

Altar Records: 2012

Much better than the first! Not that Solar Walk was bunk, but you hope a sequel improves upon a concept’s successful attributes. It’s always a crap shoot though, some efforts simply retreading the same music with slight variations to warrant the sequel tag. Other times there’s almost no common link between the two, the repeated use of a title nothing more than capitalizing on brand recognition. Given AstroPilot’s comparatively small market penetration, however, I highly doubt the latter is the case here. Nay, it’s all the more likely Solar Walk turned into a suitable outlet for his ambient and chill-out productions, and retaining a series title for those productions helps clue listeners that, yes indeed, that’s what you’re in for heading in. If you prefer AstroPilot on the uptempo take, you’d best not bother with any edition of Solar Walk.

No, wait, Solar Walk 2 does bring the beats too. Well, about as ‘beatrific’ as a dedicated chill-out album can go, but this is AstroPilot we’re talking about here, a chap who can make a brisk BPM cut sound as calm as any piece of meditative ambient drone. Hell, there’s one such track on here with Patterns Of Awareness (also the longest tune at nearly fifteen minutes in length). Another one is Betelgeuse, the second longest cut on Solar Walk 2 at twelve-point-five minutes, and employing a dynamic bit of escalating rhythm at that, the sort that could work as the climax on a standard tempo album of psy-chill and dub music. And here’s Mr. Redko dropping one on a CD supposedly dedicated to ambient space music. Even the first Solar Walk never got this intense with its lone prog-psy detour.

Ambient is what Solar Walk aims to showcase though, and ambient is what we get in droves. In terms of style, AstroPilot retains the maximal approach to the craft, layering pads and effects with such intensity, it sometimes feels like you’re being crushed by their immense, droning sonics. Yet nothing ever comes off overbearing or harsh, as though this foreboding cosmic plane envelopes and embraces your being rather than pulverizes your sanity with feelings of endless isolation. Whoa, I’m getting way deep here, aren’t I?

If this all sounds similar to the sort of ambient AstroPilot composed in Solar Walk, it is, but it’s also much more well produced too. There’s more separation and space between the multiple layers of sound, such that it’s easier to focus on distinct sounds and timbre should you so choose. There’s also more sense of progression within the tracks themselves, less emphasis on supplying heavy drone for indeterminate time. Instead, the sparse melodic ideas help paint a richer sonic canvas, allowing one’s imagination greater immersion for all your space travel needs. Finally, Solar Walk 2 isn’t continuously mixed, which greatly helps in taking in individual pieces as distinct forms from each other. It’s a small thing, but it’s easier to enjoy ambient when you’re not second-guessing if you’re dealing with a different composition.

AstroPilot - Solar Walk

Altar Records: 2010

Solar Walk was what piqued my curiosity enough to start diving into AstroPilot's discography. Not because I'd heard tracks elsewhere, or it came highly recommended by psy-ambient experts abroad (are there such folk?). Nay, it came down to the same ol' reason that always afflicts my impulse buying habits: there's a cosmic theme afoot, and I'm never sated on that space music stylee. Hell, the alias Mr. Redko chose for his work intrigued me alone, though having tracks appear on Russian space-race tribute compilation Absence Of Gravity and the final Fahrenheit Project from Ultimae were definitely added incentives to dig further. Then when I searched the Amazons for some affordable options on AstroPilot material, I discovered not only did he have an album called Solar Walk (*squee!*), but a follow-up (*-eeeeeee!*), plus a companion LP called Star Walk (*-eeeeeequss!*). Well, there goes that week's allowance.

What distinguishes the Solar Walk series from AstroPilot’s other albums is the heavy focus on ambient and chill music. I’m not sure if ol’ Dmitriy always intended to seperate his dancefloor friendly material and meditation tent efforts, but it’s not such a bad idea in the long run, especially for a chap as prolific as he. Maybe it was just a coincidence he’d end up alternating between the two styles of album material. Less odd is the fun-fact Solar Walk was his kick-off with Altar Records. Hell, for that matter, this was Altar Records’ album kick-off in general, their first non-compilation release featuring outside talent (re: not DJ Zen at the helm). It certainly was style that fit with the fledgling psy-chill print out of Quebec, a deeply ambient outing with ample layers of pad work and... um, not much else, to be honest.

This isn’t to say we’re in for an hour-long excursion of minimalist drone, the tracks on here incredibly dense in timbre. In fact, for ambient, many of these compositions are rather loud and vast, as though AstroPilot intends his music to sound like nothing less than the grand scope of an endless infinity above. I guess ‘heavenly’ is another apt adjective for this music, but that strikes me as a tad sappy for what we do get, though the spiritual connotations are hard to dismiss. Get all in on that chakra healing, yo’!

Eight tracks make up Solar Walk, some rather short (opener Languor, darker Space Ghosts), others ridiculously long (nineteen minutes of Inside The Harmony). Honestly though, track lengths are almost meaningless where this album’s concerned, each composition continuously mixed into the next. Unless you’re completely focused on the nuances of AstroPilot’s pad work or shifts in tone, three tracks could go by without you realizing it. A couple do offer rhythms, including a gradual reveal of prog-psy groove in God’s Channel, but even with these deviations, Solar Walk mostly plays out like one long piece of layered ambient drone, often lacking distinct musical moments along the way. Still, it’s better than your standard laptop noodle wank.

Peter Gabriel - So

Geffen Records: 1986

The only Peter Gabriel album you're supposed to have, even if you're not a Peter Gabriel fan. Unless, that is, you were already a Peter Gabriel fan, enjoying his work with the O.G. Genesis line-up and his following art-rock solo work. Then So is probably seen as a wack, commercial sell-out of an album, courting easy money with huge hits like Sledgehammer and In Your Eyes. Hell, he even gave this record a proper title after his first four were eponymous. That reeks of corporate interference, and it t’was, his label insisting a title so they could market it easier. Man, did they ever, So a mandatory inclusion in any generic advertising shot of CD collections. It worked though, convincing me to 'splurge' on So after spotting it in a supermarket bargain bin. Anything from the '80s with that much public prominence must have some merit to it beyond the recognizable hits, right?

Sure, although this album feels so ‘80s, it almost hurts. Part of that is strictly the production standard of the time, what with the copious reverb and hall effects the decade adored, so if you can’t stand that sound, walk on by. Granted, Mr. Gabriel was partly responsible for it becoming popular in the first place, among the first employing that distinct flat, echoing drum kick everyone associates with Regean Era rock. It also doesn’t hurt having Daniel Lanois as a co-producer either, most famous for lending his talents to U2’s most endearing work. He, too, has an inescapable ‘80s aesthetic, but his widescreen style definitely suits the ambitious, ultra-dense song-writing of Gabriel, so it’s a good pairing in this case.

You know what else was big in the ‘80s? Issues, man. Globalization was rearing its head, and people in prominent positions were all on that raising awareness shtick, Gabriel no less so than any of his musical peers. Opener Red Rain drops plenty of issues afflicting the world, the title alone a not-so subtle metaphor for the blood spilled for unjust causes. Meanwhile, gentle ballad Don’t Give Up narrows the focus closer to Gabriel’s country dealing with Thatcherism. And despite the upbeat funk of the song suggesting otherwise, Big Time is a condemnation of ‘80s consumerism. An unaware Patrick Bateman would approve if he wasn’t already a fan of Collins-era Genesis.

Finally, with world issues the hot topic of social conscience ‘80s folk, it also brought in more awareness of ethnic music. Gabriel was already a fan of such fusions, but with some pop sensibilities, he helped bring worldy sounds to Western radios in Sledgehammer (Eastern woodwinds!), Red Rain (Africa!), and Mercy Street (Brazilian forró!).

That didn’t stop him from getting his art-rock on at the end of So though. We Do What We’re Told has a meditative, rhythmic drone going for it, while This Is The Picture gets beat-jammy with Nile Rodgers and... wait, that bass tone. Could it be...? *checks credits* Laswell. Again with the Laswell. What is he, the Kevin Bacon of bass?