Paul Oakenfold - Swordfish: The Album (Original TC Review)

London-Sire Records: 2001

(2015 Update:
Did anyone get the parody in this review? My extended riff on the only good part about the movie, John Travolta's opening monologue regarding Hollywood's lack of realism? Guess you'd have to hear it in the first place, which I doubt many reading this ever did. Well, here's a good ol' linky to it on YouTube for you to get your kicks in. Now you can read this old review as intended, as envisioned, as ordained.

This was a fun one to write, especially coming off that horrendous album of 'original' material Oakenfold had released the same year. It's held up much better too, at least in that vintage turn-o'-the-millennium prog-trance stylee folks continue reminiscing over. I'd make a quip about the same being untrue for the movie, but I still haven't seen it, and probably never will. The version of Swordfish playing in my head based on the few clues given by the music here is almost certainly leagues better than anything committed to film.)


IN BRIEF: Better than remembered.

The year 2001. Such a memorable year, wasn’t it? No, I’m not referring to that incident; I mean before then. A time when we felt complacent and self-assured about things. A time when we still felt the buzz of the 90s, the silly Y2K superstitions having blown away with the wind. A time when young loves and romantic rendezvous was heartfelt and genuine (well, in my neck of the woods).

The year 2001. Remember how great electronic music was then? When electroclash was new and exciting? How house music was at glorious heights courtesy of the French? How NRG was dying off (well, I celebrated)? When seeing the name Oakenfold in production credits still equaled class?

Oh, yes, my newbie readers. Even if folks were divided on the merits of his DJing in those days, few disputed Paul’s worth as a producer, his track record throughout the '90s impeccable. Despite never actually spearheading any genre, whatever style he jumped on could be counted on as a worthy addition to the movement.

So, does anyone remember the buzz surrounding his involvement with the soundtrack to Hollywood’s faux-hacker thriller Swordfish? I wouldn’t blame you if you don’t, as it was buried under the other hype going into the movie: John Travolta doing the post-modern villain thing; Halle Berry showing nipples for an outlandish fee; Joel Silver, still flashing ‘bankable’ from The Matrix, being promoted as the hot producer for the flick. Yeah, Paul’s involvement probably didn’t register much in the minds of the movie biz faithful.

But, oh, did it matter in clubland. As far as many were concerned, this was the closest thing to a solo Oakenfold album yet (his work with Grace is often regarded as a collaborative effort), and his huge fanbase was eagre to check out the results.

Right, right. Swordfish isn’t exactly all Oakenfold. Three tracks don’t have his imprint on it, and one isn’t even from his label (the Lemon Jelly song, which unsurprisingly sounds the most unique amongst the others). Everything else, though, finds Paul getting his fingers in. Whether as producer, remixer, or collaborator, the Oakenfold (and Andy Gray, heh) touch is felt. Although you can definitely hear how these tracks would work in the movie itself, their worth isn’t hindered if you haven’t seen it (er, like me). Between clear-cut songs (Jan Johnston’s Unafraid; N*E*R*D’s Lapdance; the Planet Rock remix), trancey Perfecto cuts (Dark Machine; Muse’s New Born; Patient Saints’ On Your Mind), and obvious made-for-movie moments (Speed; Password), every one of them holds enough musical strength to keep your attention.

Holding everything together, and raising the bar on this release, is the maintained theme. While most soundtracks of this nature grab a collection of random, if not similar sounding tunes and hope for the best, Swordfish’s keeps the moody techno-trance tone intact for the duration. Even if the BPMs vary by ten or twenty, it flows naturally from song to song. This is arguably the most consistent soundtrack I’ve heard, short of orchestral and true solo works of course.

Unfortunately, Paul’s work here was doomed to soundtrack tie-in failure. There were no clear-cut singles to promote it and no big anthems tearing up the clubs from it. The final nail in the coffin was Swordfish’s own lackluster performance at the theater. Without a sizable audience eagre to hear the music associated with the flick, the soundtrack’s sales were paltry. Oakenfold’s ‘debut’ project was quickly forgotten with an unremarkable whimper, his attention now focused on a proper artist album. So endeth the Swordfish saga.

But what if - now this is the tricky part - what if folks looked past the theatrical tie-in. No movie, no hype: just treat it as a concept album, a collaborative effort with Paul’s ideas leading the charge. Lock, stock. Still no good? C’mon. How much Hollywood marketing thrown out the window would it take for the fans to reverse their stance on this soundtrack’s worthiness? And this is early 2001! There’s still optimism, still a lack of cynicism, and Paul’s star, Paul’s star is still shining!

Now, fast forward to today; diff’rent time, diff’rent place. How quickly we are to mock Oakenfold and slam anything he does in a matter of hours. An, an easily laughed at story, from Swordfish to Lively Mind. A sell-out stumble. Again, again. Relentless. Trip, splat. One after the other. All displayed on the ‘net: downloaded, compressed, mocked, and ridiculed; you can practically see the ship sinking. And all for what? A mansion, a plane? A couple million pounds of blow to shoot straight up the nose?

As easy as it is to point to Swordfish’s failure as the beginning of Oakenfold’s end, looking at just the music itself reveals some actual thought and consideration going into this. Treated as a collection of moody, trancey tunes, there’s some decent material to be had. And, no matter what you may think of Oakenfold these days, Swordfish is at least worth a pick-up should you ever spot it in a bargain bin along with the DVD, as some of these cuts don’t deserve to be lost with bungled Hollywood hype.

Well, just a thought.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2006. © All rights reserved

Eurythmics - Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This)

RCA: 1983/2005

While Eurythmics had an album out prior to this one, Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This) may as well be the duo's debut regardless. In The Garden didn't generate much interest, most folks unsure whether these two transplants from The Tourists were worth keeping tabs on. Even when Lennox and Stewart changed course to the synth-heavy sound we commonly associate with early Eurythmics, the turnaround discourse wasn't immediate. The first couple singles, This Is the House and The Walk, passed by with barely any notice, and third EP Love Is A Stranger made the barest of impressions on the scene. You have to wonder if, at that point, the Eurythmics story was on the brink. Might have Lennox and Stewart called it quits if the next single for their sophomore album failed as well; perhaps receding into avante-garde endeavours, or maybe reforming The Tourists for another kick at the new wave can. Heck, they might have even split themselves, frustrated that their creative synergy kept falling on deaf ears! Fortunately for them, that single was Sweet Dreams, and it changed everything for Eurythmics.

There’s nothing I can add to the choir praising this track that you haven’t read or discovered for yourself. Do you know much about the accompanying album though? Maybe you do, if you were there at the beginning, rushing the shops to hear more of this strange detached new wave synth-pop as performed by a group taking Bowie’s androgynous style to new levels. However, I wager most only know it as ‘that album with the two great songs on it’, and skip it for a greatest hits package instead. It’s not like This Is The House and The Walk got folks talking – maybe too much brass in The Walk.

The rest of Sweet Dreams: The Album mostly find Lennox and Stewart doing the post-wave new synth-fusion soul pop thing they’re most commonly known for, though in a much stripped manner. As they had yet to blow up big, Stewart’s studio was still rather basic, making use of a mere eight-track console while recording. A lesser group would likely have crumbled under such limitations, but with clever song writing and Lennox’s powerful pipes bringing tons of soul to such a synthesized sound, the result was one of the more unique albums of the early ‘80s. They even got a little experimental, what with ethereal Jennifer and dubby This City Never Sleeps.

As with all re-issues, we get a few B-sides from that era, some of which are shocking. Take Monkey, Monkey from the Love Is A Stranger single: is that proto-techno I hear? It’s funky, instrumental, super electronic, and how has no one ever talked about it being from 1982? Or how about the proto-EBM Baby’s Gone Blue from the Sweet Dreams single? There’s also a Moroder remix of Sweet Dreams (!), and an early Coldcut remix of Love Is A Stranger (!!). Damn, forget the big hits, these are worth picking up this CD alone.

Swayzak - Some Other Country (Original TC Review)

Studio !K7: 2007

(2015 Update:
This was the last album Swayzak produced while signed to Studio !K7. They put out another LP a couple years after, Re: Serieculture on the short-lived Japanese label Timothy Really (?), then split a short while later. David Brown carries the name now, producing techno as s_w_z_k, while James Taylor releases experimental material as Lugano Fell. Both are alright, I suppose, but clearly their best days are well behind, when they led the fashionable minimal dub surge at the turn of the millennium. Still, it wouldn't surprise me in the least if they reunited for a mini-tour. It's what all semi-popular club acts do eventually.

Obviously, their splitting turns this review totally dated, assuming the Swayzak story would have many more years. Instead, it now comes off as a last gasp attempt to stay relevant in an increasingly crowded field of minimal tech-dub house whatevers. Some Other Country has held up decently enough for the time, Swayzak already pretty darn skill at this sound when everyone else was rushing into have their piece. If it didn't interest you before though, I'd check out their earlier albums before this one.)


IN BRIEF: In the groove.

There seems to be two journalistic camps when it comes to Swayzak: either you’ve been a dedicated chronicler of their decade-long career, or you only come across them whenever an album or single happens upon your desk. It’s created an odd assortment of reviews of their material over the years, where some will cast a spotlight upon the duo as though they have just as much star power as The Chemical Brothers, while others give them a bemused warming for their ‘just quirky enough’ brand of chilled grooves. Similarly, the old faithful are still waiting for Swayzak to come correct on their potential promise, while the opposite end of the spectrum are quite intrigued by their sonic tricks. Granted, this could be said for any number of acts, but Swayzak is indeed one of those duos that could have made it as big as, say, AIR, had things been ever so slightly different.

I suppose yours truly falls somewhere in the middle of these two outlooks when it comes to the UK duo; casual fans are like that. Unsurprisingly then, my thoughts regarding their new album Some Other Country does too. I write it as I hear it: this is a solid offering that keeps the Swayzakian ship steady on course, despite an apparent lack of care regarding a destination. They seem to have had their fill of stylistic exploration and are quite content to concentrate on song writing rather than experimentation.

This isn’t to say the album is devoid of variation. Swayzak willfully jump genres with cool confidence befit of a veteran duo with their talent. Techno, dub, minimal, and even malian influences all make appearances but are seldom the driving force behind what you hear. Rather, you get the sense they had a certain song they wanted to make, then decided to add a twist to it after the blueprint was laid out to give it a little more personality. And it certainly works in that regard.

For instance, opener Quiet Life has all the requisite trappings of a blissy slice of mellow minimal house: atmospheric synths, breezy vocals from Cassy Britton, and clicky backings. All fairly standard pieces as far as this sound is concerned, yet Swayzak add just a touch of uniqueness to the song that saves it from quickly fading from your memory - in this case, an odd lifeless voice stating the title which is in stark contrast to Britton’s own lyrics.

Another example? How about second track So Cheap? I’ve a feeling Swayzak had a discussion going something like this when making it:

James: “I say, David m’chap, this is a right pretty minimal track here, but it’s missing just a bit of something else. Fancy any ideas?”
David: “Hmm... well, I had this really crazy one. I don’t know if we should do it though.”
James: “Why, what is it?”
David: “James m’boy, it’s unlike anything those mainlanders in Berlin are doing. It’ll fly in their good ol’ faces.”
James: “Blimey, I’m sold! Do tell!”
David: “I fancied throwing in an actual... melody, y’know? Oh, we’ll still do some nifty minimal effects and all that rot, but let a melody carry it for good portions too.”
James: “Oh my... Who puts melody into minimal these days? It’s just unheard of.”
David: “I know, m’boy, I know. Fak it, let’s do anyway. Might go well somewhere before that Afro-jazz thingy we got going in Claktronic.”

Heh, okay, probably not, bad English accent and all.

Still, there are other examples of the duo throwing interesting twists to what would otherwise be pretty standard tunes in the hands of others. A confounding time signature in the proto-trancey Distress And Calling; having a tragic euro-artiste styled vocal provided by indie rockers Les Fauves on top of moody slice of brooding techno (Silent Luv); big bouncy bright synths at the tail end of gripping spacey dub in They Return.

Even when they play things straighter, Swayzak craft some decidedly moving tunes. No Sad Goodbyes featuring recurring guest vocalist Richard Davis is just as stirring as anything they’ve collaborated with in the past (“Taking us back to the dark street littered with good intentions...” Lovely lyrics!).

Some Other Country isn’t the dynamic release long time fans have been wistfully waiting for, as many of Swayzak’s tricks will undoubtedly be over familiar with them at this point in their career. However, despite being executed in such a low-key manner, this is still a reasonably enjoyable album. If anything, each track offers just enough interest to keep your attention as it plays through, a feat that is unfortunately rare when it comes to electronic full-lengths.

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

The Chemical Brothers - Surrender

Astralwerks: 1999

The Chemical Brothers were kings of the big beat castle, a deserved title considering they practically built the damn thing themselves. A string of classic singles, two seminal albums, and a live show then unparalleled in electronic music, it'd take much to dethrone them. As the 20th Century neared its end, however, many would-be usurpers were storming the gates, ready to nab the crowns off Simons and Rowlands. The Crystal Method came with the pitchforks; Fatboy Slim with the battering ram; Junkie XL with the wire-fu crew; The Wiseguys with a donkey. The Chemical Brothers were seasoned veterans though, and ain't no way they’d go quietly into the night. They had their own counter-attack in the works, y'see, a third album ready to hit shelves with just as much aplomb as Exit Planet Dust and Dig Your Own Hole. Surely it would be another big beat masterpiece, proving once and for all they could never be knocked off their peak, their summit, their- No, wait, that's not right. They instead abandoned big beat altogether, releasing an LP of house and techno grooves. So that's why they named the album Surrender.

Really, The Chemie Bros had nothing to prove, deciding the time was right showing off other genres they could tackle. Making things easier in getting playlisted by all the very important progressive house DJs probably didn't hurt their decision either. Surrender thus comes with very simple caveats for all potential listeners: if you like their block rockin' beats and only their block rockin' beats, you won't dig this album. If you're a Chemical fan for life though - through the fun times and the 'artistic' ones – then you already have Surrender in your collection, don't you.

The more interesting question, then, is whether it was love at first listen, or it took some warming up to. I can't deny Surrender wasn't what I was expecting, especially with such a lacklustre lead single in Hey Boy, Hey Girl, at least compared to previous leads. I was also stupid burnt-out on The Chemical Brothers anyway, all the hype that went into Dig Your Own Hole necessitating a brief break from their sound. I think it was hearing the sub-whoofer demolishing Under The Influence on the WipEout 3 soundtrack that got me curious again. Video games can do that.

And there’s still vintage Chemical Brothers on here. Opener Music: Response has them big, beefy beats hitting, but this time coupled with some psychedelic electro. Let Forever Be once again teams up with Noel Gallagher as they forever chase The Beatles, while Asleep From Day, Dream On and the titular cut fear no starry-eyed sunrise at Glastonbury. On the other hand, Out Of Control sounds tailor made for the action movie crowd, The Sunshine Underground a massive festival climax, and Got Glint? a deep house club on acid (those claps!). All this is enough that I can vibe with Surrender on its own merits, a worthy capper to their trilogy of ‘90s albums.

Polygon Window - Surfing On Sine Waves

Warp Records: 1992/2000

The only Aphex Twin album you're supposed to have, if you want to have an Aphex Twin album that's not by Aphex Twin. No, the AFX stuff doesn't count, because you can totally tell it's the same guy. Who in their sane mind could tell Polygon Window was also a Richard D. James alias though? Not from a casual glance, no sir, though as soon as you throw this record on the player, it's pretty damn obvious. The main reason it wasn’t billed asan Aphex Twin album is ol’ Rich had yet to settle on a consistent alias, not to mention all the label politicking that went down in those days. His famous moniker was still an Apollo exclusive, he was using ‘Bradley Strider’ on his own Rephlex print, and ain’t no way Ffrreedom was letting go of Power-Pill. Thus, here’s Polygon Window making his debut on Warp Records.

Some state Surfing On Sine Waves as the best LP Mr. Dee James has ever put out. Yes, better than either Selected Ambient Works, better than his self-titled album, and even better than the best Aphex Twin album to come out in the last fifteen years, Syro. What could possibly be on this ancient record that has longtime Aphex fans proclaiming such a thing? Ambient techno, obviously, though some regular UK bleep and acid techno too. Nothing super mind-bending or obtuse for its own sake either - just interesting, intelligent tunes made in the Aphex aesthetic. As Surfing On Sine Waves was released as the second volume of Warp Records’ seminal Artificial Intelligence series (which included both compilations and artist albums), perhaps The Richarded One played nice with the fledgling London label. Or maybe he’d yet to discover his inner brilliant, wanker swagger.

The closest comparison Surfing On Sine Waves comes to the rest of Mr. James’ oeuvre is the first Selected Ambient Works. Hardly surprising since they were released around the same time, but these tracks are definitely more techno than ambient. Audax Powder has a gentle pad melody going for it, then changes gears to a bouncy rave beat. Dot goes for a moody atmosphere in robot Hell, and Quino-Phec is all sorts of dark, calming drone as found on the later volume of SAW. Reissues added Portreath Harbour and Redruth School, both sounding like early SAW session tracks that didn’t make the cut.

Other tracks fear no hardcore rhythm, Supremacy II getting its proper rave on, Quixote doing a techno-trance thing, and the titular opener showing them UK lads could go a little Detroit, should they so choose. Surprisingly, there’s some ‘conventional’ music here too, Quoth bangin’ percolating machine techno, If It Really Is Me rather drab piano techno, and an untitled track toying around with standard acid. Hey, Aphex Twin really is human after all!

At its best, Surfing On Sine Waves is a heavier, if simpler companion to James’ more famous work of the period. Not a must-have, but definitely worth the time invested.

Ghostface Killah - Supreme Clientele

Epic: 2000

Finally I’m tackling the one Ghostface Killah album Wu-Tang fans and general hip-hop folks alike consider his best long-player, Supreme Clientele. Remarkably, it wasn’t even thought as such for at first, the very definition of a slow burner. For sure the hardline Wu fandom was tripping themselves over it, but this came out when the Clan was losing their dominance at the top of the rap world, many albums from other members lacklustre compared to the fiery opening salvo that marked their ‘90s output. That Ghost’s sophomore effort would get slept on isn’t surprising, Mr. Killah’s stock as one of Wu-Tang’s best solo MC having yet to be established. It still burned in the underground though, and if anything, Supreme Clientele was the record that kept everyone talking, proving that not all things Wu was on the wane. Then Tony Starks would surpass the rest of his Clan fam’ in popularity, and everyone chimed in proclaiming they always knew Supreme Clientele was dope. Right, of course.

Disclosure time: I have not actually heard this album as most have. Rather, I have a misspressed, early version that shipped out with the initial wave of Canadian copies. For the longest time, I suspected something was wrong with my CD, the tracklist and sequencing wildly off cue compared to what was printed. It didn't matter too much, as the album was boss from front to back, but I couldn't figure why one nine-minute long track sounded like three different cuts one after the other. At the time, I thought it was an artistic decision, that Ghostface was operating on a different plane with this LP, throwing the very conventions of properly indexing one's albums out the window.

Nah, guy, it was just the wrong one I got, is all. So I lost The Grain; I gained the soul-drenched In The Rain instead. And I still get all the ace cuts anyway, even if they’re in a different order. The bouncy club jams One, Cherchez LaGhost, and Buck 50 are all still here. The killer, crusty Wu production of Mighty Healthy, Malcom, Wu Banga 101 and Stroke Of Death (the beat loop is a freakin’ spinback!) are all still here. Most members of the Clan show up (no ODB because jail, and no Deck, though he does provide a beat), with everyone sounding on point and in classic ‘90s hunger mode. The various skits are okay too (haha, they’re already dissin’ 50 Cent), and are nicely shuffled off to the ends of tracks in this copy rather than given individual indexes. Okay, that’s a personal preference.

Apparently such discrepancies have turned this first-run Canadian copy into something of a collector’s item, going for easy triple-digits in some quarters. Huh, In The Rain is a cool track (found only on this CD), but is it really worth a couple hundred bones?

In any version, Supreme Clientele is among the best solo Wu albums out there. Essential listening for any fan of the Clan.

Flowjob - Support Normality (2015 Update)

Iboga Records: 2006

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review.)

At the tail end of that very, very, very long original review of Support Normality, I quipped about how pricey these old, ace albums in the psy scene can get on the collector’s market. Hell, even lesser CDs have fetched remarkable prices at Discogs. From my pile alone, U-Recken’s Aquatic Serenade once sold for $143! The compilation Goa Spirit 3, $102! ICE MC’s Ice N’ Green, $81 (wait, what?). Several Ultimae albums have moved in the $75-$100 range, with plenty more psy leaning discs going in the tidy $30-$50 bracket. Flowjob’s sophomore album, Zentertainment, which I found weaker than their debut, brought home $40 for a former owner. Surely Support Normality then, a great collection of ultra-groovy progressive trance, would command a gracious price of… seven… teen… dollars? Are you kidding me? That’s an injustice! This should be going for well over $50! Did Iboga flood the market with too many copies or something? Am I blinded by some unaccounted bias? I’ll admit I was going through some interesting transitional times when I first came across this album, but still.

No, wait, let’s examine this. Did my situational living impact upon my reaction to Support Normality in a significant way? It’s no secret we often associate music with events in our lives, such that hearing a song can send a flood of memories from the time you first heard it. When I play this album back now, three immediate things come to mind: a rave where I had a bad 2CB trip, shitty Vancouver weather (even more so than usual), and being home wretchedly sick watching Season 1 of Battlestar Galactica. I can’t say these are at all pleasant memories on the surface, but they were significant, where after a year of big city bachelorhood, I was learning just what it took to survive in the Lower Mainland. Don’t be so irresponsible at parties, get some proper rainwear, and don’t binge watch such a depressing, brilliant sci-fi series. Oh God, the flood of feels, I tells ya’!

I suppose Support Normality provided a brief bright spot in that dour February of 2006. The chipper vibes, dubby synths, and oh-so infectious rhythms gave me a glimmer of optimism, rejuvenated my interest in electronic music in such a way that hadn’t happened since electroclash emerged onto the scene. Flowjob wasn’t doing anything I hadn’t heard before, but they did it with such finesse and skill, I was instantly hooked. They found a sweet spot that catered to my deep, dubby prog needs, the sort of music none of the genre’s standard bearers were crafting anymore, all content pursuing their own roads instead (tech, minimal, Mc.). It obviously didn’t happen like that for others, some probably bored by what Flowjob was selling. But no one can deny they have albums of similar connection to them as this one has with me.

PS: no, I’m not looking to sell anything from my collection, but if I was, hoo boy, would I clean up!

Sander van Doorn - Supernaturalistic (Original TC Review)

Ultra Records: 2008

(2015 Update:
Some credit must be given here, as Sander did embark on a different path from what everyone else was doing in trance at the time. It was still mostly rubbish, and had too many copy-cats following in step within the year, but that 'Dutch minimal' sound of his was unique, even if it was only a passing fad. As with so many of his Netherlands brethren however, ol' Doorn's become the copy-cat rather than the innovator, his recent productions mere Garrix clones with a bit of that classic Doorn bass thrown in. Predictably, his stock on the DJ Mag poll - the only important poll for Dutch DJs - has plummeted. Maybe he'll get back to his tech-trance roots now? Oh, who are we kidding, he'd totally torpedo his festival time slots if he stopped catering-

This album, then.

Riff's still a dope track, but so much of this is just a big ol' nothing of music, more so now since I can't imagine anyone playing anything off here except Doorn himself. The whole 'minimal' tangent in Dutch trance never had much success to begin with, producers quick to hop on whatever new bandwagon they could hitch themselves onto. So it goes.)


IN BRIEF: Much ado...

Lately it feels like trance producers labeled as “the future/saviors” of the genre have become a dime-a-dozen; nearly any name with some status or string of minor hits has been branded as such in recent years. Yet when Sander van Doorn broke out of nowhere a few years back, his tough tech-trance productions and energetic DJ sets hinted at the possibility that perhaps someone would finally live up to that hype. Then he released Grasshopper, and everything changed. It appeared the Dutchman had hopped on the minimal bandwagon, resulting in a plodding effects-laden wankfest of techno that split much of his fanbase. Some were looking forward to seeing where he might go with the sound, while others hoped it was just a one-off experiment. Later singles Riff and By Any Demand hinted at the former as 2007 wore on.

A year now from that polarizing single, Doorn has come forth with his debut full-length titled Supernaturalistic. It arrived with very little initial fanfare back in early March but has since gained steam thanks to the hard work of PR teams pushing it in order to maintain his star-status. However, the actual listeners remain divided as ever, as the Dutchman’s new direction appears to dominate much of the album. For make no mistake about it - musically, this is about as bare-bones as dance music gets. Doorn seems to have settled on this basic formula: introduce thumping beats, establish a simple hook, break it down and build it up with waves upon waves of effects, hit the peak, and then-

Oh, hey, that was fun. Let’s move on.

Is it really fair to criticize Doorn for being formulaic? Dance music in of itself is formulaic; I may as well complain about oranges being the color orange. Frankly, you can do plenty with formula, and even if he doesn’t stray far from it, Sander seems intent upon trying a few different things within his narrow arrangements. By Any Demand’s funky guitar lick, for instance, is certainly an attention grabber, and as a follow-up to the pounding opener-proper Riff, hints at something fresh and fun. Of course, this being the New Sander, once the breakdown/build passes and the beats drop in on us, the track-

Moving on.

From here, the musical ideas retreat further and further, as Doorn lets his techno influences dominate. There are sprinklings of trancey melodies here and there, but for the most part are held in submission. This wouldn’t be so bad if for one problem: for all the perceived dark, tough, and threatening tones Doorn supplies, the general atmosphere of Supernaturalistic falls well short of truly ominous techy vibes. It’s about as menacing as James Dean -as played by a cigarette-smoking chimpanzee (especially when compared to the 800-pound cyborg gorilla that is L.S.G.’s The Black Album, even a decade on). And when all these tracks end on such limp notes as they do after big builds filled with effects, you begin to wonder-

It’s those minimal influences.

Yeah, minimal’s aesthetic has pretty much worked its way into everything. That style, however, is built around subtlety, nuance, and status-quo. A typical minimal track seldom goes anywhere, far more content to cruise along and play with effects or atmosphere than take you on a musical journey. Sander, it would seem, wants to have his cake and eat it too; he wants to join the minimal bandwagon but is still intent on producing stadium-sized tracks. As a result, you have stuff like Grasshopper, The Bass, and Dozer, where the dooft-dooft-dooft beats pack massive punch, the effect-builds are epic, yet there is little release after it all goes down. It’s like Doorn’s trying to make concert-sized anthems out of minimal. Heh, leave it to the Dutch-

I heard some of you enjoy good hooks.

The strongest melodies are found in a couple of tracks that are little more than interludes (Lobby; Outrospective), and aren’t really worth getting into since Doorn doesn’t seem interested in going anywhere with them. However, when he’s not dickering around with effect-builds that amount to nothing, Doorn does come correct with stuff that’ll get right in your head. The riffs found in Apple and, er, Riff are great, such that they have power even when Sander somewhat scales things back in the second half of them. And many of the other offerings on Supernaturalistic contain strong opening ingredients before they are squandered afterwards. If anything, a capable DJ could use nearly any track here as an effective tension builder in their sets, provided they drop a track with some proper direction right afterwards. In that sense, though, it makes much of this album little more than glorified-

Frustrating, isn’t it.

Supernaturalistic is a lot of squandered potential. As the album wears on, the teases grow tiresome and the lack of decent dance-music release annoys. It’s fine for a few tracks but why would anyone want to sit through an hour of it is beyond me. There’s a ‘hidden’ recording tagged onto Outrospective, of the wrap-up a gig Doorn played at, and it pretty much sums up Sander’s debut: slight variations of the same thing over and over (“The Wet Bar is now closed; get out!”; “Thank you for coming, now get out!” “If you want an autograph, get in line; otherwise, get out!”), a few moments that’ll entertain (“Don’t bum-rush the stage!” - I have to admit the picture of a bunch of scuzzy, impoverished-looking clubbers rushing the stage as though Sander has food-coupons makes me giggle), maybe hinting it’s leading to a winning payoff, but ultimately amounting to nothing of consequence.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2008. © All rights reserved

Various - DJ-Kicks: Hot Chip

Studio !K7: 2007/2008

DJ-Kicks has been on the market for twenty years now, an incredible feat for any mix CD series. Wait, there isn’t any other with such an accolade! In terms of longevity, the closest comparison could be Pete Tong’s Essential Mix, but the Tongster never committed every entry to a physical format. On one hand, that’s a shame, because there’s been some incredible episodes of Essential Mix that are only available through unofficial, dodgy channels, and a physical medium would make archiving them easier. On the other hand, dear God, can you imagine the shelf space required if they were all on CD? Just keep that terabyte of info on an external harddrive, mang.

Of course, the vinyl and aluminum format has its limits too, printing runs only lasting so long before resources or interest fades. Still, with a respectable reputation and savvy marketing on one’s side, it’s easy enough to trot out the reissues, which Studio !K7 did for DJ-Kicks during their 2008 downtime. For sure there were some older mixes that could use exposure to a newer audience, but I’m befuddled by Studio !K7’s selection process here. Almost nothing from pre-2000 made the cut, while some incredibly (then) recent CDs were thrust back out on the market. Take this DJ-Kicks from Hot Chip, only a year old before being given the reissue treatment. Just… why? I can’t think of any reason this needed another version on the market, not to mention those from other recent mixes by Booka Shade, Henrik Schwarz, and Four Tet. Okay, maybe that last one – the Four Tet fanbase is rather ravenous.

In any case, Hot Chip, those highly eclectic electro-disco new wave pop weirdos, gives us a suitably eclectic mix full of electro, disco, new wave, and pop weirdness. And some tech-house too - everyone was obligated to play tech-house in the back-half of the ‘00s. Such variety is what happens when you invite five guys into the DJ booth though. Hell, even if this set only comprised the tastes of core members Alexis Taylor (the dorky one) and Joe Goddard (the cherub one), it’d still be all over the place. About the only route they could have gone was the mixtape method, and Hot Chip does just that. The opening salvo alone contains electro-pop soft-rock Nitemoves from Grovesnor, flirtatious back-and-forth hip-hop in Positive K’s I Got A Man, big beat soul-funk from Gramme’s Like U, and a mash-up of Subway’s Persuasion’s synth crescendos and choppy tech-house rhythms of Soundhack’s B1. Erm, I’m not sure which B1; Soundhack had a couple.

That’s what this DJ-Kicks entails: mini-sections of outlier tunes (Um’s The Man’s Got Me Beat, Young Leek’s Jiggle It, Nôze’s Love Affair) rubbing shoulders with trendy contemporary hotness (Dominik Eulberb’s Der Buchdrucker, Wookie’s Far East, Lanark Records’ The Stone That The Builder Rejected) and chintzy classics (Joe Jackson’s Steppin Out, New Order’s Bizarre Love Triangle). If you don’t mind the stop-start flow of such a mix, then have Hot Chip’s DJ-Kicks a go.

Various - DJ-Kicks: Claude Young

Studio !K7: 1996

We're going way back into DJ-Kicks' history here friends. Back to the days when Studio !K7 was still mostly known for its X-Mix series and all those cool, trippy CGI video tapes accompanying them. No no, they really were cool, not dated at all. The power of retro will make it so! Ahem, anyway, the initial volley of jocks into this new DJ mix series featured a quartet of Detroit techno luminaries: Carl Craig, CJ Bolland, Stacey Pullen, and Claude Young. The first two are legends, no doubt. The third gestated within the underground for a while, but I've seen him having something of a career surge in recent years. And as for ol' Claude, man, where can I start with this guy? No, really, I'm asking that, because until this CD, I'd never heard of him before. How many Detroit Braggin' Points will this cost me?

Right, it's not entirely my fault, Mr. Young having mostly shied away from the mix CD format over the years. He’s also been all over the map regarding his album output too. Debut Soft Thru came out on Belgium Elypsia, sophomore Patterns The Album came out on Dutch Djax-Up-Beats, his third LP came care of Young’s own cynet:media print (based from UK!), and his latest effort of Celestial Bodies originates from Fountain Music in Japan. Maybe he’s got some proper Detroit vinyl under one of those many early aliases instead.

Whatever the case, folks don’t typically point to Claude Young as a legend for his productions, but rather his DJing, one of the most unique Detroit jocks to ever rock the decks. Approaching the art more from a turntablist’s perspective, he’ll often layer multiple dubplates, cutting back and forth between vinyls so rhythms mesh in ways never intended. So much poly’, mang, from tracks so minimal! Of course, in the post-Ableton era, such trickery is rather common, if not always expertly executed. Claude was doing it with the only tools any jock worth his salt needs though, and has earned all the props for it.

One of the likely reasons he hasn’t often committed these talents to the CD form is such turntablism is better suited in a live setting than recorded format. Young can pull all manner of sonic tricks from his bag, but if you’re not familiar with the tunes themselves, only an expert techno trainspotter will hear how a track changes up. Also, isn’t the whole point of turntablism the showmanship as well as the music being played?

Ah right, the music on this edition of DJ-Kicks. I haven’t talked it much, because there isn’t much to tell. It’s Detroit techno through and through (and lots of Mark Bell), going from the minimal stuff to bangin’ stuff to funkier stuff, all dope if you like your mid-‘90s techno. I found Young’s set took some time warming up, a bit heavy with the experimental cutting in the early going, but once the pace picks, hoo, it’s a fun ride, is what.