Stephen J. Kroos - Tecktonick (Original TC Review)

Anjunabeats: 2007

(2016 Update:
See 2007 Sykonee. See 2007 Sykonee make ridiculous generalization about trance producers making breaks. Point at 2007 Sykonee. Laugh. Laugh at 2007 Sykonee. Ha ha ha. What a nob. I don't even recall what his problem was, a rant that comes totally out of nowhere. Laugh especially hard at the fact I actually like Oxygenation now. Maybe it's that new-found appreciation for McProg's more charming attributes, but Kroos does good in bringing the grumbly low-end/twinkly high-end style to the realms of broken beats. The nu-skool leaning Elecktronick can be left well behind though.

Kroos wasn't long for the world of trance, moving onto tech-house and prog shortly after this album, releasing several singles on Anjunadeep in the process. Eventually he left Anjuna', finding a new home on Spring Tube where he continues releasing music to this day. While keeping with the tech, he's also incorporated deep house and chilled IDM into his repertoire. So a fairly well-rounded career since dropping his debut, even if significantly diminished in scene presence since.)


IN BRIEF: Bringing the past to the present.

Expectations are a dangerous thing when it comes to music. While they may be different for everyone, if an artist doesn’t reach a previous peak (much less surpass it), their subsequent releases are often met with disappointment. And this tends to hold true not just with producers, but everything from DJs, compilation series, labels, and even whole genres.

This can work other ways too. The obvious is when your expectations are so low, to hear something that is surprisingly decent can skew an objective impression. More common is coming across a release that breaks the norm of what you are used to, and impressions are no less susceptible.

The ultra-melodic trance label Anjunabeats hasn’t been known for its diversity but they seem to be showing signs of moving beyond the clichés of late. Among the artists doing so for them is Stephen J. Kroos. The Dutchman’s been producing since the late 90s, having small success when his singles found homes on compilations like Mega Trance 1.0, Ibiza Club Trance, and The House Sound Of Dance Tuning Disco (?). A few years back, Anjunabeats took Kroos on, and turned heads by providing a sound much of the epic trance brigade were unfamiliar with.

Let’s make something clear though. Despite claims to the contrary, Kroos’ music isn't revolutionary. In fact, he’s merely doing the same thing as newer producers like Paul Moelands, Sander van Doorn, and the Discovery squad are: taking trance back to its roots. A time before the Corsten clones, the overblown breakdowns, the schmaltzy lyrics, and everything else that sent the genre into Punchline Land. I can see how kids who figure trance begins and ends with Armin van Buuren’s radio show would find Kroos’ material quite different from the norm. However, folks with Pre-Dutch Explosion knowledge will find his style familiar (I’ll spare you the synth-sample trainspotting).

And this is A-OK. Although often regarded as tech-trance these days, this is more-or-less how the genre sounded when it was showing great promise as savvy party music. It builds on layers, letting the rhythms drive and the melodies subtly tickle at your mind. It was effective in the mid-90s, and it remains effective to this day. If stuff like deep house and Detroit techno are able to get away with recycling winning formulas, why not trance of this nature too?

Anyhow, let’s get to the particulars of Kroos’ album Tecktonik.

After a bit of ambient noodling opens things up (of which several others crop up throughout as interludes between tracks), Stephen wastes no time in letting his audience know this isn’t a typical Anjunabeats release. 4 Your Taperecorder is a techy banger that has only one thought in mind: working the dancefloor. Fortunately, it works fine on the homefront as well, with catchy hooks and vocal samples keeping your attention. Follow-up Sadistick is something far more familiar with the Anjuna faithful. A standard prog-house excursion, Kroos does the style justice with suitable dark grooves and moody atmosphere. Less effective is Tony McGuinness’ lyrics: unnecessary fluff. Why is the Above & Beyond man even here? As one of the label heads, did he insist on having at least one vocal number on this album. Thankfully, it’s a one-off, and we’re right back into Kroos’ winning style soon after.

And nothing over-fancy here, folks. Just simple energetic trance. The rhythms pump, the melodies work, and the breakdowns never dawdle. Hell, Innerstatistick barely has any downtime at all, with a not-a-breakdown-at-all moment lasting less than thirty seconds; and merely used to introduce one of those oh-so vintage ominous sci-fi samples no less! Kroos’ offerings tug at nostalgic strings while keeping his sound firmly in the present. I’d say I’m about ready to be converted to the Cult Of Kroos.

But then he decides to take a stab at breaks. Oh dear...

My friends, there are many constants in the cosmos, one of which is trance producers seldom make good breaks. With most of their attention paid on atmosphere and melodies, they forget the one ingredient that makes breaks good: da funk. Kroos is no exception to the rule, with his offerings blander than white bread. Oxygenate isn’t that bad when he lets the effects direct the flow of the song, but Elecktronick is far too dependent on rhythm to carry it, and the track suffers as a result. And sadly, Tecktonick ends on a limp note. Frankly, the final ambient doodle Sphecktralizm would have been a great closer had Kroos explored the psy dub possibilities an extended version of it hints at. Instead, Formalistick is the main show, but doesn’t have much going for it as such. It’s a fine track to be used in DJ sets but remains musically limited, with a lead hook that ends far too soon; just as you’re warmed up to it, we’re already heading into our perfunctory rhythmic lead-out.

This by no means makes for a weak album though. While the second half of Tecktonick doesn’t quite match the first, there’s still enough here to warrant your attention. The ‘let-trance-do-what-it-do-best’ mentality to many of these cuts shows the ol’ girl still has some life after all, and Kroos’ production suggests a promising future for his career. Well, such that he won't have to worry about being on compilations with names like Veronica’s Mega Music Dance Experience again.

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

Lee 'Scratch' Perry - Technomajikal

ROIR (Reachout International Records): 1997

Lee 'Scratch' Perry and one of the guys from Yello? Sure, why not. Stranger collaborations have gone down in electronic music. Collaborations such as... um... well, certainly none along the way of The Orb or Pete Namlook so often indulged in. Those pairings made some sense, musicians with common synergy feeding off each other’s vibes. This is true for many scenes in electronic music, and though cross-pollination doesn't happen often, it hasn't stopped an occasional producer’s flight of fancy in trying something with someone outside their comfort zone. Guest rappers from the world of hip-hop don't count since that’s mercenary work unintended for a full LP's worth of material. This just might be the oddest pairing in electronic music I’ve ever seen then – most definitely within my own collection of CDs anyway.

Quick rundown of the players involved. Lee ‘Scratch’ Perry (aka: The Upsetter; aka: The Prophet; aka: Super Ape; aka: Pipecock Jakxon; aka: Toots; aka:...) is a Jamaican legend, often credited with being among the earliest pioneers of reggae dub. He’s produced countless records, famously burned down his own studio in a fit of paranoia, then moved to Europe for an extended bout of ‘quiet time’. Though nearing his 80th birthday, he continues to make music and tour in some limited capacity. In the other corner we have Dieter Meier, vocalist of synth-pop fusion weirdos Yello fame, carving out an incredibly unique sound of blended traditional Latin influences into a future-leaning world. Though often name-dropped as inspiration by many contemporary producers, their approaches to music was wildly different; not to mention their lifestyles. Perry was a Jamaican immigrant eccentric, whereas Meier was a millionaire industrialist making music as a lark. Nope, nothing in common at all.

Except for the fact they both were living in Switzerland. Ol’ Dieter, a fan of the Super Ape, got in touch with ol’ Lee, and convinced him into some sessions in his studio. I’ve no idea if the two had any idea of what they’d make, and legend purport Perry was barely committed to the project at all. Mr. ‘Scratch’ apparently went so far as to record his vocals outdoors, though given his famously eccentric behaviours, that part isn’t so surprising.

Unfortunately, the resulting album of Technomajikal plays to neither of each musician’s strengths. Perry goes on about psychedelia, representing music, and being “x-perry-mental” with rudimentary lyricism that, for the longest time, I thought were samples from other works. Much of the music crafted are proto-goa trance rhythms and sounds, and though more dynamic than such beats typically go, it’s still not much better than the filler on any number of budget compilations.

With half the CD taken up with pointless remixes and alternate versions, Technomajikal ultimately comes off like a project that was only half-realized before pushed out so it wasn’t a total loss. The only track that reaches the ‘Lee Meets Dieter’ promise is final cut Crazy House, with all sorts of off-kilter ‘Scratch’ ad-libs and quirky Yello percussion. A shame.

Moodymann - Technologystolemyvinyle (Original TC Review)

KDJ: 2007

(2016 Update:
At first glance, this shorty review looks way out of touch, writing off the vinyl market as a hopelessly niche scene while new technologies grew in dominance. It certainly seemed as such a decade ago, but here we are in the here and now, records seeing a commercial resurgence not enjoyed since... geez, the early '90s? Have folks returned to the ancient format, abandoning CDs and digital? Ah, not exactly. Those dedicated and romantic buyers I mentioned before? They exploded, especially within an emergent hipster culture where a younger, numerous generation were gulping down fat pitchers of the Black Crack Kool-Aid. It's not that the sort of collectors changed, just that there were a whole heck lot more of 'em now. It's actually caused something of a pressing shortage with big labels hogging all the factories with re-issues, making underground records like this one more difficult to produce with any decent frequency.

Hey, wait, I don't collect vinyl! How do I even have this? Yeah, um, back in my TranceCritic days, we didn't always have the most legit sources for material to review. Guess this MP3 did steal Moodymann's 'vinyle' after all.)


IN BRIEF: Just one, son?

Really, just how dead is vinyl? CDs managed to supplant records in households, and in recent years clubbing culture - the last bastion of vinyl supremacy - has seen laptops and CDJs take over. Pressing plants and record stores have been closing en masse. Ask any label about their decisions to reduce their vinyl output, and you’ll largely come away with cost efficiency factors. For all intents and purposes, the Black Crack should be barely clinging to life-support.

Yet like the Spirit of Sauron, it persists. And while many kids would chalk it up to the dedicated, the old-school, or the romantics sustaining it, fact remains vinyl will forever have a part in music consumption. There will always be dedicated, old-school romantics who are collectors of classic formats (although online stores such as Juno proves the market for club weapons remains steady as well). There’s far too many of them to write off vinyl’s sustainability, even if it has become more niche than ever.

Thus, when house producer Kenneth Dixon, Jr. releases a one-sided, single-song vinyl of this sort, it’s far from a tactical error. His brand of vintage funk-and-soul grooves is clearly aimed towards those who have warm nostalgic feelings of the past, and a release such as this is unapologetic in its skimpy offering. It’s a record for people who like to collect records, the digital domain be damned (hence the tongue-in-cheek title).

Of course, this wouldn’t matter much if the song was crap, but the Moodymann has long been counted upon to deliver the house-flavored goods when called upon. With Technologystolemyvinlye, he once again draws influence from 70s funk, bringing us a house track that is decidedly fresh in this era of electro abrasiveness. Essentially divided into two parts, the first half is where you’ll find the most dancefloor effectiveness; among big band samples, the rhythms chug along as organs, trumpets, and guitars provide sizzling soul. The latter half goes more jazzy, with the main instruments indulging in a little solo action: its fine enough but far more suited for lounging moments.

I highly doubt this one little record will suddenly convert hundreds of downloaders to vinyl. However, fans of house music will be missing out on a gem of a track if they dismiss Moodymann’s celebration of the past as nostalgic silliness. He may be stuck in the ‘70s, but funk and soul has seldom seen better times since.

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

Various - Techno Trax Vol. 12

ZYX Music: 1994

Techno Trax was one of ZYX Music's premier compilation series in the '90s. Okay, I don't know if that's true, but I can confirm it was one of their most prolific, especially in the first half of the decade. This Vol. 12 came out when the series was but a mere three years old, and while its output was significantly cut back following 1994, it persevered into the new millennium. Took a couple evolutions to get there though, becoming Techno Traxx (with two x’s!) as the year 2000 drew close, then morphing into Techno Traxx – Step Into The Future going forward, finally ending in 2002. Including a megamix spin-off series, and various ‘Best Of...” additions, not to mention a dedicated entry into ZYX’s massive The World Of... series, and I’d say you have a proper successful collection of compilations on your hands. Well, you’d have to ask old-school folks from mainland Europe if that’s the case. I have no idea if Techno Trax was indeed a smash, or it was just a means for ZYX to churn out quick, cheap CDs into the market.

I imagine it was reasonably popular though, the series often featuring ‘techno’ hits of the day while staying just a foot within the underground. It’s early entries mostly contained classic rave tracks from acts like Altern 8, The Overlords, The Prodigy, L.A. Style, and, um, 2 Unlimited. Soon Techno Trax was also licensing out records from Suck Me Plasma, getting in on that burgeoning German trance thing as hardcore rave turned into goofy, happy offshoots. Once trance became the genre du jour of Europe, the series almost exclusively focused on that instead, their only actual techno pretty much the hard acid stuff. Not that Techno Trax ever had much traditional techno to begin with. Hell, the only such case on this particular double-discer is Love Inc.’s R.E.S.P.E.C.T., an early Wolfgang Voigt cut. Speaking of another ‘humble beginnings’ name on here, Robert Babicz shows up as Acid Warrior, doing acid techno in Acid Bites. ACIIEEEDDD!

Anyhow, it’s at this crossroads between techno-rave and German trance that we find Vol. 12. Some of the Techno Trax old guard show up with tunes, like The Prodigy’s Voodoo People and Moby’s Feeling So Real, but neither would appear in the series again. Meanwhile, names like Komakino, Jam & Spoon, Alien Factory, Paranoia X, DJ Tom & Norman, Acrid Abeyance, Legend B, and Nostrum should spark the synapses of anyone familiar with hard trance of the time. Can’t say all the tracks here are mint examples of the German sound though, no matter how many punchy, minor key melodies tickle my ears.

In fact, this whole compilation is kinda’ rubbish, and it’s all the happy hardcore’s fault. Whether ultra-lame covers of pop hits or super sap bilge, I just can’t stand this stuff. Only two tracks transcend the nasty cheese into tasty-cheese: Mark ‘Oh’s Love Song, and the hilariously ridiculous Rotterduck from Assi, another Komakino alias. He-he, wheee, squeaky toy!

Various - Techno Nights Ambient Dawn (2016 Update)

EMI: 1995

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review.)

Easily the funniest thing about that old review is how much I'm dropping the acronym 'EDM' throughout, like it's become the acceptable alternative to the old catch-all term 'electronica'. Over a decade ago though, it really was, even if mostly limited to online discussion in web forums; a handy short-form since continuously typing 'electronic dance music' was much too cumbersome. How was anyone to know 'EDM' would not only enter the public lexicon, but turn out even more reviled a catch-all than 'electronica' or 'techno'? Surely not I in the year 2005, making it hilarious seeing it used so innocently back then. It does make me wonder what might replace ‘EDM’ as “WORST. CATCH-ALL. EVER.” for fans of electronic music. Oh, it will happen. Ten, maybe twenty years from now, when ‘EDM’ is a long, faded memory of a fad, something will come along as a new hotness, turning scenesters of old (re: the current kids) irate over a silly little word.

Speaking of passing time, holy cow does Techno Nights – Ambient Dawn grow more exceptional as the years tick off. Not so much for the music, though there are quite a few great tracks throughout (and that god awful Winter (Armani Mix) from Dave Clarke). Some cuts are showing their age (The Grid’s Texas Cowboy, Shamen’s Destination Eschaton (Hardfloor Vocal Mix), The Prodigy’s Weather Experience, Orbital’s Lush), but most remain as vital as the day they were crafted.

But putting together an ace assortment of tracks isn’t that big a deal, especially in this day of building your own playlists on streaming services. No, what astounds me about this compilation now is that it was even made at all. To be blunt, licensing is a bitch, and the thirty-seven tracks that makes up Techno Nights – Ambient Dawn come from all over the place. EMI’s clout is big, no doubt, and probably could have convinced the independent labels like Warp, XL Recordings, One Little Indian, Mute, Kickin’, and others for contributions to this project. The fact they also got all their major competitors – BMG, Virgin, Sony, WEA, MCA, Polygram – in on this is nothing short of remarkable. I can’t imagine something similar being put together these days, not without all manner of licensing hassle as labels continue consolidating their assets ever more protectively.

And even if they did manage a compromise, the result wouldn’t be anything like the track list we have here. I can’t think of any other commercial compilation where you’d find The Chemical Brothers, DJ Hell, Eon, The Beloved, and Plastikman rubbing shoulders with Philip Glass, Yello, Vangelis, and Brian Eno. Where big hits like Enigma’s Age Of Loneliness and 808 State’s Pacific 707 hang out with utter unknowns like Jam & Spoon’s Hispanos In Space and The Black Dog’s Raxmus. What would a comparable compilation even look like in today’s scene? It wouldn’t. I truly believe no one could pull off a sequel to Techno Nights – Ambient Dawn. I’d love to see an attempt though.

DJ Heather - Tangerine

Afterhours: 2000

Few lady jocks have had as much success in the world of house music as DJ Heather. Already a fixture in Chicago’s underground throughout the ‘90s, she gained a remarkable following from some of that scene’s premiere talents (Sneak, Carter, Farina, etc.), establishing herself as one of those ‘DJ’s DJ’ rather by accident. She never saw herself making a lasting career out of spinning records on the weekend, y’see, just a fun thing to do while socializing with artistic sorts around the Windy City.

But gained a rep for dynamic sets and skillful mixing she done did get, emerging from Chi-Town as one of the city’s preeminent DJs rinsing out the house beats. And though the fact she was a woman wasn’t a major part of her marketing, it didn’t stop her from using it as a platform to help promote other ladies in the field, including the SuperJane tour with fellow Chicago talents like Collette, Lady D and Dayhota. Several DJ mix CDs followed, including becoming the first woman to provide a set for the fabric series, and it seemed everything would continue on the up-and-up for Ms. Robinson. Well, not quite, mostly abandoning the mix CD market and sticking things out on the humble side of DJing. Her pedigree was more than enough to sustain a career without relying on the excessive promotional tactics employed by other jocks on the scene now.

At the turn of the century though, mix CDs were the best way of spreading your name beyond your local hubs, and DJ Heather got her start in this field with Tangerine on the prolific but short-lived Afterhours print out of Chicago. The style of music here won’t surprise anyone familiar with funky disco and soulful house of the era, Mark Farina’s mighty OM practically saturating American shops with the stuff. Heck, I’ve already mentioned a couple tracks off here in prior reviews (Studio Nova’s Moog manipulating Expansion Module, DJD’s funk talkbox anthem Shake It For Me), with a number of other well-rinsed records finding their way into this set too (Nick Holder’s Inside Your Soul, Derrick Carter’s 10, Les Maçons De La Musique’s No Time To Lose). These are mostly relegated to the bookends though, where you’re either capturing the listener’s attention with the familiar, or finishing strong with anthems.

The bulk of Tangerine is made up of rarities like Nostalgia’s deep filter-funk stomper 2 Da Floor, Majestika’s soulful organ cut Mind Magic, and Bert Dunk’s bouncy garage dub All In My Mind (and more!). Heather’s mixing has a couple shakey live transitions, but nothing that’s quickly recovered by another solid jam, each track distinct and fresh throughout. She finds her groove early and generally rides the same tempo to the end, only relenting at the very end with The Rurals’ Window Pain, a deep slice of jazzy garage that fades off into birds chirping in the morning light. I think most deep house DJs are obligated to end their CDs as such.

Si Matthews - Tales Of Ten Worlds

Carpe Sonum Records: 2015

I feel like I’ve seen Si Matthews’ name all over the place these past couple years, but the interwebs suggests otherwise. He has scant presence with Lord Discogs, barely any mention with Last.fm, and a rather minimal amount of Soundcloud uploads. If we’re gauging based on musical output alone (which I typically do), he’s among the most obscure ambient techno artists currently out there. Yet I don’t get that sense from Mr. Matthews at all, not one bit. What gives?

Apparently Tales Of Ten Worlds has been floating around in some capacity for about a decade now, initially being sent to Fax +49-69/450464 as a demo. Given the label’s insane rate of output, I’ve no doubt many aspiring producers inspired by Pete Namlook’s seminal print sent him material for consideration. It’s somewhat surprising then, that Mr. Kaulmann passed on Si Matthews’ demo, though his reasoning was sound enough. FAX+, y’see, just wasn’t doing the sort of spacey, minimalist ambient techno as offered here anymore. Then again, no one was supporting this sound in the mid-‘00s, at least with any significant promotion behind them. It’d be at least another half-decade before the calling allure of old-school ambient techno started its retro return within scene discourse. That didn’t stop whispers circulating among FAX+ die-hards though, of a mint, vintage sounding album existing, one that could have been deemed a new classic if Papa Pete hadn’t passed on it. And while Tales Of Ten Worlds would still likely never have had a second chance with Namlook’s label (just not jazzy enough?), someone would probably have picked it up eventually if Mr. Matthews found the right print to give it a shot. Fortunately for Si, Carpe Sonum Records filled that need in branding itself as the spiritual successor to FAX+, including releasing music that adhered to the label’s ‘90s style. Enter ancient quote about patience being a virtue.

Obviously then, if you’ve a hankering for ambient techno of old, you’ll dig Tales Of Ten Worlds. This is some truly classic sounding stuff, the likes of which had mostly fallen out of style as the ‘90s wound down. In some ways, I’m not sure it’s significantly rebounded yet, but clearly there’s enough of a market now that this album ranked high among many Best Of Ambient lists for 2015. And deservedly so, synth pad melodies exploring the cosmic bizarre while grounding the listener with soft rhythms and ethereal sequencers. Some are mysterious and subtle in composition (World 1, World 3, World 5), others are more peppy and benign (World 2, World 8). There’s moody ten-plus minute long pieces (World 4, World 7), plus brief sonic doodles (World 6, World 10). And what ambient techno album would be complete without a melding of all this in World 9?

Maybe not the most detailed description above, but Tales Of Ten Worlds doesn’t require much. It’s a modest collection of uncomplicated tracks, with enough personality to stand distinct and unique in a contemporary scene. Top tales all told, then.

Laurent Garnier - Tales Of A Kleptomaniac (Original TC Review)

[PIAS] Recordings: 2009

(2016 Update:
You just had to make another dig at minimal, didn't you, 2009 Sykonee? Boy, does that quip ever date this review now - like, who gives a rat's poop about Luciano anymore? Meanwhile, Garnier's still here, doing his thing as he's always done, even releasing another album this past year. This reads a bit gushy to my current eyes, but its no less reverent than any number of fans and journo-folks who've put hundreds to thousands of words detailing the Frenchman's career and class.

Unfortunately for this album though, it hasn't gotten any easier of a listen as time's worn on. For all the care and skill Mr. Garnier put into these tracks, they create such an erratic listen with a traditional playthrough that it's difficult for anything to stick to the ol' memory membranes. Funny enough, Laurent mentioned shortly after releasing Tales Of A Kleptomaniac that he couldn't even stand listening to these tracks anymore, having spent so much time on them and all. Man, I know what that's like with some of my own writing, but I can definitely hear how some of this music's been micro-managed almost to a fault. Gotta' keep that muse fresh with new ideas, yo'.)


IN BRIEF: Does Garnier have anything left to prove?

No, don’t actually answer that rhetorical question; just ponder it for a moment. Then, once you’ve finished pondering, keep those thoughts to yourself. If you do that, then you might be able to dive into his new album, Tales Of A Kleptomaniac, without any of the ungodly expectations the Frenchman has become saddled with. Just accept the fact he likes to make music, and feel fortunate enough he’s successful enough to share that over-indulgent muse of his with you.

The simple fact of the matter is Garnier has established himself as the music-fan’s producer and DJ, thus has earned all the plaudits that comes with such respect; however, this also leaves his body of work incredibly daunting for the uninitiated, with very few clear-cut crossover singles to his name (The Man With The Red Face being the most obvious exception, especially recently). With a discography that is far from newbie-friendly, Garnier has been kept somewhat on the outskirts of top acts, even though he is a recognizable name. This new album isn’t likely to change that, which will probably suit his fanbse just fine. But, y’know, it’d be nice of him to, like, get the same kind of praise the Luciano Villalawtins of the world do, just once in a while, hm? Ah well.

So now that we’ve effectively frightened away the uninitiated, is there anything of interest for the Garnier connoisseur? You bet! In fact, there’s almost too much here. In being such a hoarder of musical styles, ol’ Laurent has assembled an incredibly eclectic collection of songs, such that I can’t see folks getting their vibe on to every track.

For instance, you may be totally down for more of his jazz-fusion techno-stomp, supplied here in the form of Gnanmankuodjii; but are you willing to go even deeper down the jazz tunnel, into an acid lounge with Garnier himself providing spoken dialogue in Dealing With The Man? Or perhaps you’re looking forward to some vintage dark trance vibes with Desirless that ol’ Laurent was known for way back in the day. That may sound good, but perhaps not the two hip-hop cuts - one with French lyrics, no less - if that isn’t your thing. Or maybe the thought of him doing dub reggae with Food For Thought makes you all giddy (*cough*); might you have the opposite reaction to Bourre Pif, a dabbling into drum’n’bass? Wait, what? That last one doesn’t make any sense. How could someone like one rhythm-heavy form of music but not another? Never mind that last one.

Getting back to the album, the point is there be a lot of musical variety on here, some of which may not be your cup of brie. However, it is all finely produced and enjoyable to those with at least a broad sense of taste -allow me to provide an example. Although I know it can be musical journalistic suicide to openly admit to not knowing much about a particular genre, I think you can all forgive me saying that I am quite clueless when it comes to French hip-hop - I've heard no more than half-a-dozen tunes in my life. Yet, despite not getting much out of Freeverse (Part 1) on an intellectual level, I still enjoy it on a ‘dumb’ level; that is, purely on what the music on hand offers. You get that sense of musical competence from Garnier on every cut here, and though you may not be compelled to suddenly start checking hundreds of French hip-hop acts out there, Garnier at least provides you with something that won’t have you quickly reaching for the skip button.

That said, there isn’t much on here that would convince one to check out these musical genres further either. Food For Thought is a great dub tune …for being on a Laurent Garnier album; fans of jazz-fusion, techno, and, yes, even French hip-hop would probably say similar things.

Tales Of A Kleptomaniac is another solid outing from Garnier, and the music’s far too good to give it anything lower than an 8. However, in allowing his muse to rob the kitchen of everything but the plumbing, it unfortunately lacks an elevating, crossover classic. The veteran Frenchman remains as daunting for the newbie as ever.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2009. © All rights reserved.

Mick Chillage - Tales From The Igloo Re-Told

Psychonavigation Records: 2014

While Oliver Lieb's Inside Voices introduced me to Psychonavigation Records, this was the album that got me digging further into the Dublin print's discography, though almost entirely by chance. If I’d sought out Inside Voices through my usual Amazon means, the Bandcamp option would never had exposed me to the rest of Psychonavigation’s recent catalogue. Doing a casual glance-over, I noticed a curiously cartoony looking item among the more credible pieces of cover art, sticking out like an ice-encrusted thumb. Despite never hearing the name Mick Chillage before, I dug a bit further into this oddball snowball of a CD called Tales From The Igloo Re-Told. Ah, a remix album then, with rubs from names like Gel-Sol, Lorenzo Montanà, Peter Benisch, Dialog, the New Composers... *record scratch*.

Waitwaitwait...! The Peter Benisch? That dude who made wonderful music at the turn of the century, then practically disappeared from Earth? What’s he doing on such an innocuous CD? Is this just a one-shot, some sort of curried favour for the label? Is this Mick Chillage guy a bigger deal than I could have thought? And what of the album-proper of Tales From The Igloo? Is it some masterstroke of modern chill-out music to have lured in so many highly respected names within this scene? I mean, Peter Benisch ain’t the only old-schooler on this remix project. David Morley’s here! Dr. Atmo’s here! Scanner’s here! Man, it didn’t matter that I’d never heard the original album, thus having absolutely no frame of reference for these ‘retold’ings – I had to get this just to hear what these chaps have been up to! Maybe discover a couple additional names in the process (that Gel-Sol, why he so familiar?).

My epic odyssey through Psychonavigation Records’ archives these past couple months have answered many of these questions. Without this CD enticing me though, there likely would never have been the label splurge, much less hundreds of words on my part chronicling all this music from the Dublin print. Well, maybe a few, just based on general consensus of essential albums from Psychonavigation.Tales From The Igloo-Prime was likely an eventuality - it does come highly recommended from most discerning ambient heads, after all.

Even without hearing the original album, Re-Told holds strong on its own merits. Mr. Chillage’s original compositions were already unfussy, so it isn’t much for our clutch of remixers to apply their own styles to the minute melodies Mick crafted. Morley, Montana, and New Composure do their ambient techno thing, while Benisch, Scanner, and Sense opt for something more on the widescreen tip. Dialog goes for a dubbier outing, Gel-Sol offers something abstract, and Dr. Atmo has old-school ambient house clear in his sights. Oh, and Mick indulges his full Biosphere on a lengthier rub on Hypothermia. All this diversity actually makes Tales From The Igloo Retold a stronger LP than the original album, though obviously defeats the simplistic charm Chillage had going on his debut. A yin-yang deal we got going here, then.

Mick Chillage - Tales From The Igloo

Psychonavigation Records: 2009

It took a while, but with Mick Chillage's debut album Tales From The Igloo, Psychonavigation Records could finally claim to have a bonafide hit on their hands. Well, about as a much of a hit a micro-niche scene such as throwback ambient techno could ever achieve, but it’s something. Prior to Tales, the Dublin print had remained quite underground and relatively unnoticed, mostly giving folks with close ties to the local scene their promotion. This was technically also the case with Mick Chillage, Mr. Gainford spending much of his early career as a radio DJ on Dublin’s XFM. Though he never released anything official, The Chillaged One did while those years producing an assortment of techno, downtempo, and ambient items that were probably never intended for more than nearby playouts.

For all intents, having a fruitful career in LPs wasn’t high on his mind, but that Keith Downey boy, he never met a fellow Irishman that he couldn’t woo to his label. One successful album later, and not only was Mick Chillage off and shopping to several like-minded labels, but Psychonavigation Records also started drawing in other established artists to their print as well, growing their profile in the process. Or it was all just one big coincidence things turned out like this.

At first glance, Tales From The Igloo doesn’t come off as anything terribly unique or remarkable. It’s a vintage ambient techno album released at a time when ambient techno was continuously distancing itself from its past. Much of the old guard of that scene had long moved onto other music, or simply retreated into seclusion. Though always pointing to the seminal works put out by Warp, Apollo, and Fax+ as a source of inspiration, the new cats preferred pushing the genre into the realms of dub techno and clicky glitch. If there was a market for old-school leaning ambient techno, it was buried deep in glacial stasis, waiting to be thawed out when fondness for such retro sounds could flourish again. Tales From The Igloo seems to have been the tipping point that started the thaw, Mick Chillage uncompromising in crafting simple, elegant pieces that had folks namedropping ancient Biosphere, HIA, and Aphex Twin in association.

Even within the limited palette Chillage utilizes, he offers a nice array of tunes. There’s soft, brisk techno (Dubmarine, Melting Emotion, Floating In Hyperspace, Northern Lights, Precinct 14), moody Nordic ambient numbers (Hypothermia, Disturbed Earth, eleven-minute long Gateway Station), a couple tunes that meet midpoint between the two (Hidden Landscape, Rotation), and the requisite curious outlier in Under The Ice, a track with rather abrasive beats considering the surrounding music.

Another quibble with this album is the wonky track sequencing, most of the beatless, chill material lodged in the middle rather than the more sensible bookends of the LP. I often find myself drifting off midway through because of this, forgetting there’s some decent uptempo tunes towards the end. Not quibble enough, however, to not recommend Tales From The Igloo.

Front Line Assembly - Tactical Neural Implant

Third Mind Records/Roadrunner Records: 1992/2007

The only Front Line Assembly album you're supposed to have, even if you're not a Front Line Assembly fan. Heck, some make the case Tactical Neural Implant is an essential LP in the industrial scene period, though that's a bit of a stretch. For sure the band that Bill Leeb built grew to be one of the most popular during the early ‘90s, but industrial reaches far with its assortment of Very Important People. At best Front Line Assembly helped lead the charge in the world of EBM, but even they were quick to move onto different explorations of their sound, eager to try something else with each album or side project. That can make for some difficulty in knowing which of the roughly dozen FLA albums is a good starting point, if I hadn't already said the answer is Tactical Neural Implant right at the start of this paragraph.

First off, this is where Leeb and Rhys Fulber really hit their stride as a unit, taking what they’d learned in their first producing outing on Caustic Grip and applying it to some serious songcraft muscle here. Industrial music has always been about manipulating sounds into garish, abrasive attacks on the senses, things like ‘melody’ or ‘earworms’ treated as musical conventions intended for parody. EBM, with its heavy focus on rhythms, lightened a little on such sonic perversions, but was no less cutting in this aesthetic. Tactical Neural Implant, on the other hand, generally sounds cleaner than earlier FLA albums, relying more on grinding, mechanical samples and menacing synths rather than harsh effects to sell its dystopian vision. A good thing too, otherwise the many, surprising melodic moments throughout this album wouldn’t be nearly as effective as musical counterpoints if they were equally muddied and full of murk.

For instance, melodies in songs Remorse and Outcast don’t sound too off from Leeb and Fulber’s Delerium work, to say nothing of melodramatic closer Lifeline. Sample lyrics: “In the shadow, An angel cries;... Innocence confused, By hate.” Part of my brain wants to lambast these words as hokey goth poetry, but damn if Leeb’s bellowing doesn’t get stuck in my head with me eager to hit the replay button.

Still, these are outliers compared to the other songs, where Leeb opts for the snarling EBM sneer (Final Impact, Bio-Mechanic, Outcast, Gun) or fierce industrial growl (Mindphaser). And that’s when you can hear his words at all, some tracks rendering them all but indecipherable with vocoder effects (The Blade). I personally love it when Leeb’s voice morphs though, as in Bio-Mechanic where it grows ever more vicious and robotic in the chorus. Talk of insidious earworms too, Mindphaser the biggest hit Front Line Assembly ever released – heck, they named their website after the song!

Tactical Neural Implant might be a smite too catchy for industrial purists to take seriously, but that just makes it a great entry point for folks looking to cut their teeth on EBM. A tactical neural implant indeed.

ACE TRACKS: February 2016

Oh my God, did February ever suck. Okay, there was that kick-ass Deadpool movie in there, plus d’em Golden State Warriors continue to astound in ways I never thought possible with NBA caliber basketball before, but in terms of getting significant work done with this blog, ugh what a slog. Never before have I been afflicted with flu aches/dizzying fever/curse of Cthulu symptoms like that, and I pray I never do again. That said, I did accomplish a couple things, one of which being an obvious fresh coat of template-paint here, hopefully making things a little easier on the eyes now. Also, I’ve added a couple Pages to the side-bar, one to keep all past and future ACE TRACKS playlists in an easy-access point, plus a FAQ for anyone still not up to speed on what this blog’s all about.

My main goal though (and thus far failure), is organize that gargantuan cloud of labels into something resembling a glossary or table of contents. Give folks easier navigation through the insurmountable back-catalog of reviews that’s accumulated, y’know? I’ve yet to find an easy fix for this though, and I’ve been told nothing short of a complete, ground-up redesign would accomplish what I want. *sigh* Am I gonna’ have to learn to actual code now, and not rely on templates? How was I to know things would get so big?


Full track list here.

MISSING ALBUMS:
Various - Summer
Various - Simulus
Ciaran Byrne - Nine Lives Causeway
Various - Montreal Mix Sessions Vol. 5 - Tiga: Mixed Emotions

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 0%
Percentage of Rock: 0%
Most “WTF?” Track: Nothing at all.

Hope y’all dig the Psychonavigation Records love-in here, as that’s practically the entirety of this playlist. Even the few albums outside the Dublin print mostly fall within a similar style of music. Thank God for Tiga bringing a tiny bit of variety here, but I thank God for Tiga about many things regardless. I'm kinda’ surprised this playlist’s as long as it is too – felt like I got through barely anything this past month, but at least this bulk of alphabetical backlog is finally caught up with. Finally get to move onto a brand new letter, with fresh genres and fresh labels! …including two more Psychonavigation CDs, and a Carpe Sonum CD within the first week.

*sigh* Y’know, I think I'm actually starting to look forward to that eventual review of Live's Throwing Copper.

Various - Summer

Altar Records: 2015

Feel that in the air? The warmth, the brisk breezes? Why, you could almost claim it summer now! What's that, everywhere east of Vancouver? You're still all cold and bitter and wretched and miserable? Sucks to be you then. Why, y'all could never listen to this CD from Altar Records so ludicrously out of season and appreciate it with appropriate weather beaming through the windows. True, we had to put up with some three-hundred million gallons of rain before getting to this balmy June-ish clime’ we're enjoying deep into February, but now that we do have it, our smugness knows no bounds or remorse. Still, DJ Zen better hurry up with the Winter edition of this compilation series, lest the window of season appropriate street dates pass by. Quebec may deal with snow all the way into July [citation needed], but officially winter’s done on March 21, less than a month away from the time I’m typing this. No pressure, yo’.

Summer is probably the most predictable of these Season CDs thus far, in that DJ Zen couldn’t help but gear his selection of tunes for the outdoor party vibe. The entire psy scene is practically predicated on flailing under warm, starry skies, on tropical beach fronts or in cool forests at night. You sure wouldn’t throw a psy party on an alpine glacier, is what I’m saying (though that’d be a pretty dope setting for a Biosphere concert). And while I’d applaud the Altar Records head if he took a musical gamble for this volume, there’s no thematic point in eschewing a sure thing like this. Summer is the psy-tranciest season of the year, so DJ Zen may as well give us the psy-tranciest CD out on Altar Records he can muster.

And the first few tracks promise as such. Groovy psy-chill is always a fine way to open a compilation of this sort, and Sudaya provides a scorcher of a track in Over The Edge, synths and pads soaring in from deep cosmic realms. It’s a bit on the hammy side, but so earnest in delivery it wins you over regardless. By cut three, we’re already in prog-psy’s uptempo realm, Elea’s Yãtrã getting its world beat vibes on with plenty o’ sitar action. A couple solid psy tunes after that from E-Mantra and Merlin, and then Summer plummets right off a cliff.

No, but really, I thought plodding numbers like Alwoods’ Blue Horizon had long been left to the monotonous era of minimalist dark psy fifteen years ago. And why is it over eleven minutes long? Hardly anything happens during that length, it doesn’t build to anything substantial, and we could have had two cool tracks instead for that amount of runtime. Even Iboga Records never got this monotonous. Much.

One bad track isn’t a deal-breaker for Summer, with AstroPilot, Abiogenesis, and Asura rounding out a decent enough finish. Given the strong start of this CD though, such a dud does leave an unfortunate aftertaste.

Various - Strange-Eyed Constellations

Disco Gecko: 2015

A little late to the compilation game, aren’t we, Mr. Marks? True, it’s only in recent years ol’ Toby’s started using his Disco Gecko print as something more than an outlet for all his Banco de Gaia back-catalog, but this market has grown incredibly niche since he got his break on similar CDs way back when. You could find fashionable ‘ambient collections’ with distinct themes on nearly every store shelf in ’92, but while there’s no drought for new material these days, you don’t see much consolidation of the music beyond label manifestos. Tobes mentions in this CD’s liner notes a long-gestating intent at doing something similar to the old Ambient Dub series though, so better late than never?

Still, Strange-Eyed Constellations doesn’t have much concept behind it other than being a gathering of musicians and music that Mr. Marks fancies. This ranges from long-time compatriots like Andy Guthrie and James Eller, more recent associates like AstroPilot, Dr. Trippy, Temple Hedz, and Andrew Heath, plus inclusions from completely new-to-Discogs names like Project Transmissions and Oombata Key. Now that’s how you diversify a compilation: lure ‘em in with the familiar, exposing the overlooked in the process. Toby’s done his research here.

As we’re dealing with the man behind Banco de Gaia, Strange-Eyed Constellations obviously features a lot of ethnic-fusion sort of music. Hah, no, Marks has evolved some since those Last Train To Lhasa days, going far more ambient and musically abstract than cribbing a few worldly chants and slapping a dance beat underneath. AstroPilot’s opener Dum Spíro, Spéro does the space ambient thing, with the next clutch of tracks going rather ethereal. A song titled Sirens Of Lorelei, yeah, I’d be rather disappointed if I wasn’t getting the Wiccan vibe on, and that carries through Radium88’s The Future’s Bright, The Future’s Incandescent.

The middle of the compilation (stop thinking Starry-Eyed Sunrise, dammit), gets more to the ethnical influences, though are mostly subdued offerings of world music, much less ‘beat’ despite the nods to dubbier production about. Makes sense, given Marks’ longtime aversion to the term ‘world beat’ in the first place, and he doesn’t hesitate in throwing in a couple curveballs along the way (James Eller’s It’s Beautiful Mike, It Really Is is a dead-ringer for classic Pink Floyd). Dimensions from Temple Hedz is closer to the contemporary Banco mold, though given the two tracks Marks offers himself, what even is the Banco sound anymore? To The Nth Degree sounds like an amalgamation of Andrew Heath, AstroPilot, and Floyd, while Falling Tides under his own name sees ol’ Toby going full Heath for himself. Not to be outdone, Andrew closes the compilation out with a bit of planetarium piano doodling in Epiphany. Much lovely, ‘tis.

Strange-Eyed Constellations has a few fluffy, forgettable moments, with some tracks blending indistinguishably between others, but it’s definitely all in the Disco Gecko mold. If you figured Marks’ label was nothing but Banco de Gaia retreads, this compilation provides a proper ear opener.

Seán Quinn - Skylines

Psychonavigation Records: 2002

You know you always get the clean, uncut sparkling varnished honesty from me, right? Sure you do, that’s why you’re always coming back here. I think. That whole ‘consistent new reviews’ also may have something to do with it. I’d imagine my thoughts on music have garnered some small repute at this stage too. Maybe it’s just to indulge in this ‘gimmick’ o’ mine, to see what item alphabetically pops up next in my mad quest to listen to everything I have. Gotta’ admit that’s why I keep hoping Sarah O’Holla returns to her similar endeavor at My Husband’s Stupid Record Collection, genuine curiosity over whether some obscure 1982 post no-wave punk 7” might crop up next, or one of the big guns I love reading other people’s opinions on (so long to go before Neil Young …so very long). Wait, I’ve gone way off topic here. Darn feverish state of mind - will this flu ever let up?

Here’s the truthiful proclamation I was trying to get at: initial impressions of a lot o’ these Psychonavigation Records records kinda’ bled altogether into one fuzzy-photo of cover art. I get that it’s a visual aesthetic the label cultivated for itself (because Boards), but when one binge-buys a back-catalog as I did, it makes distinguishing between CDs difficult, especially when dealing with almost entirely new names. There’s little chance at taking each in on their own merits, digesting their nuances before moving onto the next in the pile in some slim hopes a crash session can give you some lasting impressions. I couldn’t tell the Seán Quinns from the Ciaran Byrnes, the Skylines from the Picnics With Pylons, the Boards Of Canada sounding tunes from the other Boards Of Canada sounding tunes. Getting down to write a review of each these CDs definitely helped me in distinguishing between them, if nothing else for discovering more info behind the artists involved.

For instance, Seán Quinn was yet another big ol’ blank when I first got this CD, and remained as such despite listening to it a couple times, the music getting lost among all the other Psychonavigation material I drowned myself in. Turns out though, he’s done little solo LPing anyway, this and a recent Audiobiography his only albums. On the other hand, Lord Discogs tells me he’s part of the electro-pop duo Tiny Magnetic Pets (who’d also released on Psychonavigation), which I feel I should know from somewhere, but could be getting mixed up with a similar sounding band (ergh, it’s buggin’ me!).

Another reason Skylines had trouble sinking in is it’s all over the place. There are skitzy beats, abstract ambient, twee pop, mellow Boards nods (of course), and not much linking it together. Imbrium is the sort of grand space ambient I’d expect out of Ultimae, while Yellow Magnetic wants to have its orchestral breakcore and eat DJ Food too. Wait, what? Okay, the fever’s setting in again. Better wrap this up now.

Various - Simulus

Psychonavigation Records: 2002

We’re going way back in Psychonavigation’s history with this one, folks. Back to the time before they earned much rep’ outside their native Dublin. Before the change when they focused primarily on artist albums. The years when their chief output was the compilation. An era where vinyl was still on their market! The age after the oceans drank Atlantis and before the rise of the sons of Aryas; the days of high adventure! No, wait, that's too far. Pretty sure this label's of a more recent era than when Conan The Barbarian was lopping heads aplenty. The beginning of Americanaland’s end, yeah, that'll do.

Having taken in all these Psychonavigation albums now, I feel I’ve gotten a decent bead on who’s their main acts, who’s their outside contributors, and so on. I look at the track list for Simulus though, and I’m drawing a blank on nearly everyone here. Move D shows up, taking some time away from his hundred-zillionth session with Pete Namlook to provide a jazzy, smoky, blues-hop number in Downtime. A few other names on Simulus have a decent amount of Discogian presence. The Rip-Off Artist released some eight LPs in a very short amount of time in the early ‘00s, with the man behind the name, Matt Haines, working with about a half-dozen other aliases before and since too. A couple others, like The Last Sound and EU, have continued releasing material to this day, though on various different labels than Psychonavigation. Names like Matthew Devereux and Manta even got albums out on this print shortly after. Mostly though, we’re dealing with artists that had a few items out around the time this compilation was released, and promptly disappeared shortly after from all Lord Discogs’ records. Except for Undermine, I have no idea what their story is, the Discogian link directing me to an American hardcore punk band from the early ‘90s. Psychonavigation’s done a few dalliances in its genre explorations, but I’m pretty darn sure Keith Downey’s never been tempted to go that route.

Instead, Simulus is another CD that supports my association of Psychonavigation with Shadow Records, in that this is one seriously trip-hoppin’ collection of tunes. For sure we get a few glitch IDM cuts too, such as Mantra’s click-n-bass Endent, The Rip-Off Artist’s bleep-hop Thief Of Hearts, and The Last Sound’s neurofunky Life Flashes, though that’s served as a specific segment showcasing such sounds. In fact, Simulus is separated into four such distinct parts, each with a brief intermission called Got That? marking the transition. Makes more sense for the vinyl version I guess, but it’s cool to hear some concept being applied to a compilation regardless.

Mostly though, the tunes on Simulus do that turn of the century trip-hop thing a lot of labels were doing in Ninja Tune’s wake, with spicy splashes of other genres for good measure - breaks in The Turner Experience from Dan Warren, ambient techno in Winter from EU. An interesting CD, all said.

Tiga - Sexor

[PIAS] Recordings: 2006

Confessional 10, sub-admittance 32: I had serious doubts over this album. Me, the guy who’d been flying the Tiga flag since I first took the Turbo plunge, who preached the Sontag gospel when every opportunity presented itself. For you see, I was won over by his charms and talents as a tastemaker, plus his impeccable cover artistry. Nearly everything he’d put out in his singing career was his take on other people’s songs, and he was darn good at it too. Still, would folks really be enthralled by a full LP of covers? Not terribly likely, but nor had Tiga at any point prior established himself as someone capable of writing original tunes either. With these factors bearing on my mind, I skipped out on Sexor, letting Tiga’s chips fall where they may as he set out on conquering Canadian content airwaves. Of course things turned out perfectly hunky-dory for the man from Montreal, so why did it take me nearly a got’dang decade to finally get this album into my collection? I… really have no answers for that. File this one with Dig Your Own Hole and “Anything Orbital” under the ‘Sykonee’s Unforgivable Omissions’ header.

Okay, one reason I wasn’t so quick to jump into the big bed of Sexor was due to how omnipresent it was within my social circle. I didn’t need to get it for myself when everyone else was jamming to Pleasure From The Bass. It seemed like the (Far From) Home video was on constant rotation at every house gathering I went to (that walk!). And damn straight folks couldn’t get enough of Burning Down The House, since everything Talking Heads was super cool again. Getting his David Byrne on aside, Tiga choice of covers sure came from unexpected places. There’s an acid house rub of Public Enemy’s Louder Than A Bomb, and a slinky electro-ballad of Nine Inch Nails’ way-early single Down In It. Not the first time Tiga’d done covers of hip-hop or industrial, but considering he made his name in the synth-pop market, it’s a bold move nonetheless. So’s all the acid house and techno on this album, come to think of it.

For sure he gets some synth-pop in with another Jori Hulkkonen team-up winner (High School), but much of the co-production on Sexor is divided between Jesper Dahlbäck (aka: the Good Dahlbäck) and Soulwax, whom were at the height of their star power. The first half is mostly dominated by Jesper’s groovin’ acid funk and downtempo cuts (plus an industrial freak-out in Who’s That?), while Soulwax bring the noisy electro anthems to the their works. All through it all, Tiga carries the tunes with all the swagger and suave finesse of a singer who’s fully confident in his stride. The lyrics are generally simplistic, but they carry such sincerity and charisma you can’t help but bobble your head along (or… that walk!). Throw in a few introspective moments, and you’ve a pop record that holds strong ten years on.

Lorenzo Montanà - Serpe

Fax +49-69/450464/Psychonavigation Records: 2011/2015

Somewhere during all those Labyrinth session with Pete Namlook, Lorenzo Montanà found the time to release a second solo effort on Fax +49-69/450464 called Serpe. With but a two year turnaround from his previous debut of Black Ivy, not to mention the six full-lengths released in the past three years, I'm getting the feeling ol' Lorenzo's one of those 'studio sluts'. You know the sort, spending endless days and nights huddled behind consoles and computers, synths and hardware, plus a few assorted 'real' instruments like guitars or glockenspiels. But hey, sometimes you just feel that creative pulse, propelling you from project to project in perpetuity. Though let’s not get ahead of ourselves; Mr. Montanà’s not any sort of Merzbow type. He, y’know, actually makes albums with a consistent theme to them, and all.

Yeah, I mentioned a problem with his first one was that it was missing that key ‘album’ flow, that it came off as little more than a collection of nicely produced, unconnected tracks. That point still stands (it’s only been a month since I made it), but that time spent jamming away in labyrinths with The Namlookian One must have helped refine Lorenzo’s craft, as Serpe is a marked improvement over Black Ivy. For one thing, there’s an actual theme to this album, each track title the name of a different sort of snake from the world abroad. I suppose Black Ivy had a loose plant theme going for it too, but much like the music on that LP, it wasn’t consistent.

Consistency, yes, that’s what Serpe’s got going for it. Every track maintains a running tone throughout, of moody, mysterious ambient techno with splashes of clicky glitch. While by no means an unique assortment of sounds at his disposal, Mr. Montanà comes off most comfortable working within this template, giving him the more freedom to write music fitting this concept than concern himself with technical aspects. I mean, the titualar opener sounds like an actual opener, an atmospheric little number with a stirring synth refrain and soft percussion nestled under washed-out white noise field effects, treated guitar plucking riffing off it for a brief portion before giving way to distant explosions. I’m not sure what this has to do with snakes, exactly, but tickle me intrigued for what comes next.

From there Serpe does the easy-cool build as most solid albums do. The next few tracks stick to the downtempo side of things, a groovy little number in Elaps Harlequin followed by a spritely chill piece in Dugite, while Mamushi features another lovely subdued melody within its stark dub ambient realm. As per course, the second half of Serpe ups the tempo some, Agkistrodon getting almost downright trance at points, though ol’ Lorenzo sure doesn’t hold back his fondness for the skittery side of IDM rhythms in Elaphe and Habu. Final two tracks Acrochordidae and Demansia go wide-screen in their production, and I’m left wondering how Mr. Montanà hasn’t ended up on Ultimae yet.

ACE TRACKS: October 2012

Hey hey! Another milestone reached! Or achievement accomplished. Or task completed. Or obsession sated. Whatever the case, this marks the end of all these backtrack ACE TRACKS playlists. I mean, wow, October 2012. Such a long time ago now, isn’t it. I still feel like I only recently started doing this, yet here we are, nearing the end of Obama’s second term as President of Everything Forever – when I was writing these reviews, there was still some actual debate over Romney’s chances!

I had no idea whether this endeavor would sustain itself either, a lot of those October writings rather shaky to my eyes. Nor did I have any clue if I’d get any sort of significant audience for my musings, especially when I was so freely drifting away from what most would consider an electronic music blog right out the gate. I was mostly making up my format as I went along, and didn’t really find my groove until late in the month. I honestly feel the Asian Dub Foundation review marked my proper starting point, if nothing else because it’s always easier to rip into music than just discuss it. Or more fun to write and read, anyway.


Full track list here.

MISSING ALBUMS:
Black Rebel Motorcycle Club - Beat The Devil’s Tattoo
Octagen - Collected Works Vol. 2
Globular - Colours of The Brainform
Frankie Bones - Computer Controlled 2: Live In California

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 11%
Percentage Of Rock: 6%
Most “WTF?” Track: Nine Inch Nails - Closer To God (not that it’s shocking by any stretch, but it’s definitely abrasive compared to the rest)

Remember when it seemed like Bone Thugs-N-Harmony was a rap obsession of mine? Eh, probably not, since I’ve no idea how many readers here were even around for those early days of this blog. How about when I’d go from reputable electro to cheesy euro dance to prog rock and with a dash of house thrown in? Geez, was that first month ever all over the place. Still, with how settled a lot of my music purchases have turned these last few months, I kinda’ miss that spontaneity, that unpredictability of just what I might review next (trance? Ambient? Pants?). Maybe it’s time for another used shop haul…

Sense - Selected Moments, Vol. 1

Psychonavigation Records: 2013

Have I reached ‘peak ambient’ yet? Like, taken in so much of the stuff now that I’m micromanaging every tiny variation of it into compartmentalized sub-sub genres? Where Layered Drone is a totally different thing from Singular Drone, and the length between held piano notes drastically separates pieces into wholly uncompromiseable BPM brackets. For sure I can tell what constitutes Space Ambient, but should it be further splintered into Cosmic Ambient, Interstellar Ambient, Black Cold Ambient, Gravitational Waves Ambient, and even Quantum Ambient (that’s some proper ‘lowercase’ shit right there, mang!). For sure I can differentiate between inner headspace forms like Meditation Ambient (mostly synths and bell tones) and New Age Ambient (stupid, silly flutes or angel choirs), and now I feel there’s more unique branches I’m dubbing Melancholic Ambient, and Morning-After Ambient, not to mention Dawn Ambient (don’t confuse it with Solar Ambient, which is a Space Ambient thing). But wait, there’s also the Dark Ambient scene too, with so many variations and permutations, you could write a Tale Of The Old Ones anthology detailing it all (Gothic! Winter! Feral! Space! …yes, that again).

The reason for spending nearly two-hundred got’dang words describing all the ambient you can handle is because I know – just know! – you’re feeling a curious emptiness with the title of this album I’m supposed to be reviewing. You want to say it, your brain is tricking you into reading it, but reality does not deceive: this CD is called Selected Moments, Vol. 1, not Selected [Ambient] Works/Moments, Vol. 2 as your eyes so desperately wants to make it. Oh, it’s most definitely an ambient album, nary a beat found within the eight tracks comprising this LP. There’s nothing really connecting these compositions beyond their general stylistic songcraft either, so for all intents this is just a volume of selected ambient works. I suspect, however, that Adam Raisbeck had the good sense to not go with such an obvious cribbing of that other very famous selection of ambient works, practical though such a title would be.

Mr. Raisbeck is something of a folk hero to the new school of dedicated ambient followers, his debut album A View From A Vulnerable Place regarded as one of the scene’s definitive classics of the modern era. Floating from label to label as many producers in this realm do, he’s found a recent home with Psychonavigation Records, making his first impression on the Dublin print with this album. It’s a lovely little collection of ambient tunes, a bit rather in the classic Eno mold, though with more musicality going on than those early works. Some calmly float along lengthy soft synths (Heading Take 1, View From The Peephole, Less Than Perfect), others make use of simple charming melodies (36 4s (Mix 14), 3songs), and Praise (Full) melts my heart to utter pud’gin. Selected Moments, Vol. 1 presents itself as typical as most ambient collections go, but dang in this Sense chap doesn’t make you yearn for more.

Krill.Minima - Sekundenschlaf

Psychonavigation Records: 2013

See, folks, Psychonavigation Records isn’t just a big ol’ ‘90s love-in. This here Krill.Minima, he’s doing the abstract dub techno thing for this here album Sekundenschlaf, a genre that’s gained more prominence in this here millennium compared to that older time of two decades past. True, all these echoing chords, clicky percussion, and static textures is the sound that Mille Pleateux built its foundations on as the Clinton (One) Years ended, but it was the following Bush (Two) Years that it became all trendy, cool, and oft emulated. So, y’know, an ‘00s sound, not a ‘90s sound. What do you mean this is a stretch? I’m trying not to play into the cliché, I really am!

The music on here may be the sort more commonly found on Echospace, but the man behind the alias, Martin Juhls, typically makes tunes that fit the Psychonavigation mold. Releasing EPs and LPs since 2003, there’s more ambient pad work complementing all the clicky dub production, nods to older IDM and ambient techno that Keith Downey can’t seem to get enough of. More so is the Marsen Jules ‘alias’, where a lot of modern classical compositions meet layered drone work, and is apparently the more popular of the two. Well, about as popular as this sort of music goes, but Mr. Juhls seems to have spent far more time with this latter alias than with Krill.Minima. In fact, it’d been in relative hiatus for half a decade before being resurrected for Psychonavigation. Though according to Lord Discogs, a similar gap exists for Marsen Jules output too. Huh, whatever happened during that time at the turn of our current decade? I wonder… wonder… wonder…

*cue scene of black and white cartoon farm animals dancing in 1931 short*

Erm, sorry, my head’s been all sorts of distracted lately.

So Sekundenschlaf is a dub techno album, though really more of a ‘dub techno’ downtempo album. Only a couple tracks have a real techno pulse to them (Monddiode, Kronen Dab), while others favor the path of broken-beat groove (Von Angesicht zu Angesicht, Montreal > Dortmund, Serpentine). That is when the Krill’d One bothers with recognizable rhythms at all, some tracks muting beats down to clicks’n’cuts abstraction (Bienenkorb, Unter Druck), or foregoing them completely. Mamor (Dedub) goes as far deep into dub production as one can get while retaining some semblance of song structure, Kalypso makes use of melancholic tones echoing into the infinite, Nachtigal has that vintage Berlin-School modulation going for it, and ten-minute long closer Timbre is all wall-of-sound layered drone as you might find in Wolfang Voigt’s Gas works. Through all of this, plenty of white noise and static fills the sonic seams. So much white noise and static. Makes for a rather sterile listen at times, but Mr. Juhls knows his way around dub enough that there’s never a lack of warmth either.

If you’re curious to what a different label might offer in the realm of dub techno, give Sekundenschalf a try.

Mick Chillage - Saudade

Carpe Sonum Records: 2014

Finally, ambient music on a label that's not Psychonavigation Records, care of a producer who got his start ...on Psychonavigation Records. *sigh* There's no escaping it, is there. I know Carpe Sonum fancies themselves the spiritual successor to Fax +49-69/450464, but it seems Keith Downey’s Label That Will is fast becoming the ambient-leaning print that everyone’s contributed to at some point in their career. Whether getting their start or chipping in for a track or remix, Psychonavigation’s built up quite the pedigree now. Hell, I only ‘discovered’ them because an old-schooler released his latest album there (Oliver Lieb, yo’). How long before I see Banco de Gaia or AstroPilot crop up on the Dublin label?

Hey, sorry for that totally unrelated tangent. We’re here to discuss a Carpe Sonum Records release, not the myriad ways other labels make their rep’. Of course, this print makes no secret of its love regarding Namlook’s old works, and as Mick Chillage was one of Fax+’s final artists (including the pairing with Moss Garden member Lee Norris as Autumn Of Communion), it’s only natural they’d come knocking with requests for an album. Or he made the offer himself. Or maybe a combination of both. Like, he certainly didn’t have to release on Carpe Sonum, Mr. Chillage (Mr. Gainford to the Ireland Office of Data) having albums out on a number of prints (...txt, Databloem, Anodize, self-release). Still, if that mega Namlook tribute box-set deal taught us anything, it’s there’s a lot of residual love for the Fax+ legacy, and having something proper on the label continuing it is only appropriate.

Ol’ Mick has dabbled in various forms of ambient and chill-out music (clearly), but Saudade is about as full-on ambient as you’ll likely ever hear from the chap. The first three tracks (Over Ingia, North Scape, Yakone) go the minimalist, droning route, with two of these compositions quite lengthy in the process. As the titles suggest, these are also rather cold, barren pieces, very much evoking the sort of vistas you’d expect from frozen wastes. Yeah, whether it’s cover art or song titles, Chillage doesn’t skimp on the ‘chill’ metaphors in his music. There’s a little amount of spritely synth in Over Ingia, like the glittering gleam off ice-covered landforms, but we don’t get much else beyond pure tone-setting drone.

At nearly seventeen-minutes in length, Solitude makes for an obvious centrepiece track on Saudade. Such a runtime offers Chillage time to go through icy bleak drone through faded, melancholic melody and back to lonesome drone again. That’s followed upon by big, bright synths in Altesch, bolder astral ambient with Ophir Aurora, and sequenced minimalism to close with Fall, ending the album on a very Berlin-School tip.

Despite being inundated with an over-abundance of ambient these past few weeks, it’s hard not to recommend Saudade as another essential addition to any fans of the genre. What’s remarkable is this is but the ‘tip of the iceberg’ (*groan*) of Chillage’s repertoire of cool (*slap*).

Imploded View - Picnics With Pylons

Psychonavigation Records: 2012

Another day, another ultra-obscure Irish producer with an album on Psychonavigation Records. How obscure this time? Lord Discogs has nadda’ on Imploded View. No real name for the alias, no brief words regarding what the project’s about, not even a bloomin’ photo for the man. There are links to his Facebook, Twitter, and Bandcamp though, but you’ll find even less helpful background on the chap, one of the blurbs proudly proclaiming “Reluctantly/Happily testing the bounds of obscurity.” Hell, the only reason I have any notion that Imploded View is a dude is the inlay of this digipak has a picture of someone in silhouette that appears to be male. Not that it confirms anything, as any sex can rock the ‘short hair, oval head, high collar’ look. However, when someone refers to Imploded View as ‘Jerome’ on the Twoism.org forums, I’m gonna’ go with my hunch that it’s a He we’re dealing with. Only the finest journalistic sleuthing on this blog, yo’!

If the purposeful enigmatic persona, faded photographic cover art, and Twoism.org association weren’t clues enough, Imploded View is also another Psychonavigation Records artist that’s feeling the Boards of Canada vibe. Fortunately, it’s not quite as blatant as Ciaran Byrne’s Nine Lives Causeway was, the music here sounding distinct enough that you wouldn’t mistake it for a long-lost tape from the Scottish duo. For instance, the track Boring Robot has a way-laidback groove coupled with childlike charm and snippets of unintelligible voices – sounds like BoC’s Roygbiv, don’t it? Mr. View, however, adds a thick layer of morning-glow pad, as strained a metaphor as any I can come up with, but oddly apt. It’s like, Roygbiv is the track you hear before you head out on the night, and Boring Robot is the hazy recollection of that track come dawn.

That’s what listening to Picnics With Pylons is like, hearing tunes that vaguely remind you of Boards Of Canada, but through the murk of many years later. Which makes total sense considering the undeniable impact BoC’s had on producers fancying nostalgic downtempo analog jams. Not to be left out of the memory-fuzz stylee, a couple of these have that desolate, urban squalor Burial made his namesake too (Astral Airways, Snowflake Bentley). Others find their own, quirky path without any immediate signifiers, like the crisp beatcraft of Across the Snow, or the cinematic flourishes of trip-hoppin’ We Ivy. Or my limited experience in the field of ‘obvious Boards Of Canada musicks is obvious’ has left a gap in recognizing other notable names I should be droppin’.

Whether this makes Imploded View different enough for you to check out Picnics With Pylons out, that’s all up to you. Yeah, not the most winning endorsement there, and despite the unique things I’ve detailed, this LP’s ultimately still just another collection of modestly interesting downtempo music from Psychonavigation Records. ‘Jerome’ can craft some pleasant, quirky little numbers here, but as an album, this is but a bit of ephemeral fluff. Yes, fancy simile score!

Lars Leonhard - Passenger At Night

BineMusic: 2015

Lars Leonhard’s been a busy body since he debuted with 1549 in 2011. Multiple digital singles, self-released mini-albums, a collaborative project or three. He’s shopped around to Ultmae Records, Deepindub.org, and Diametral, but returned to BineMusic for a new LP that’s his first solo effort on a physical format in a while (2013’s second album Seasons paired him with vocalist Alvina Red). That honestly boggles my mind, nearly a half-decade of time having passed before he committed fresh music to compact disc again. Feels like I’ve seen his name crop up constantly since appearing on Ultimae with Stella Nova, and I was expecting more hard copy musicks in his discography than this. But nay, for all intents, Passengers At Night is the closest thing to a proper CD follow-up to 1549 that we’ve seen from the man in Düsseldorf. *sigh* No hope of Another World or Orange Dawn finding their way to the physical?

Lars’ first album had a clear, specific theme behind it, odd as a source of inspiration though it was. Seems with Passenger At Night, he’s broadened his scope beyond a singular flight incident, but it’s no less thematic. Track titles like Night Train To Berlin, So Close So Far, Sunset In Paris, Underground Railroad, Sternenklare Nacht (re: starry night) and Heimweh (re: homesickness) definitely conjures imagery of long, lonely trips through twilight Western Europe. This could simply be recounting the rigors of touring or tedium of commuting, but for some reason, I keep imagining World War 2, refugees on the run within a ruined continent; some real Schindler’s List type of vibe, yo’, especially with a track titled Lily’s Spieluhr (re: music box). It’d explain the red dots within mostly black cover art. Or it’s just BineMusic being mathematically abstract as usual.

Whatever the source of Mr. Leonhard’s inspiration for this album, the music itself goes the dub techno route ever further. 1549 had it too of course, but it was tempered with light prog-psy action, residing in that weird venn diagram zone of dubbed-out tech-groove that you’d never expect to hear rinsed out by deep tech-house DJs. Passenger At Night strips things back even further, letting reverb and echo fill a much wider range of sonic space. What few melodies he does bring are subtle, yet remarkably poignant in such a subdued environment as he crafts here. The distant, gentle pads he lays over each other in Vienna are lush in the way they build, and the touching tones in the titular cut, Lily’s Spieluhr and Long Way Home has me reminded of Vector Lovers at his affecting best. Other tracks like Sunset In Paris, Hang In The Balance, Underground Railroad, and Heimweh are content in exploring dub techno’s more functional aesthetics, but never to any mind-numbing sterility that you’re zoning out of the moment.

In fact, Passenger At Night is one of the few dub techno albums I’ve recently come across where I’m constantly lost in its nuances. Perfect late-night commute music, this is.

Ciaran Byrne - Nine Lives Causeway

Psychonavigation Records: 2008

I recently wrote it’s not such a bad thing finding influence and inspiration from other prominent electronic music groups and artists, especially those from the ‘90s. Hell, it’s such an oft repeated refrain on this blog that it could almost be a secondary by-line. “Enjoying The Past, So Long As It Still Sounds Like The Future.” I’m sure Simon Reynolds has copiously espoused (whee, fancy words!) on this topic, getting lost in retro naval gazing to the detriment of what’s potentially current and new, and it’s a fair point. However, I contend electronic music, in theory, has such a diverse palette and near-limitless resource to draw from, that all it takes is a little creative ingenuity to find a unique spin on a tried-and-true sound. Acid house may have an incredibly base foundation, but no two producers will tweak those 303 knobs the same. It almost seems more difficult to actively copy another track sound for sound than to fiddle with the template in your own fashion. So imagine my surprise in hearing Nine Lives Causeway from Ciaran Byrne, an album mimicking Boards Of Canada so exactly, you’d think it was the Scottish duo hiding under a pseudonym.

Mr. Byrne certainly isn’t the first or last to take on the lo-fi leftfield nostalgic trip-hop BoC stylee. Dan Snaith’s early Manitoba work comes to mind as an obvious comparison, and I’ve no doubt plenty more ultra-obscure producers have dabbled in crackly analog gear for a post-clubbing generation. This album though… I mean, seriously, c’mon, mang! This sounds more Boards Of Canada than Boards Of Canada sounded on Geogaddi. I’ve little doubt I could play this to any casual fan under the assumption it was another unearthed Boards Of Canada artifact, and they’d wholly fall for it. But this isn’t Boards Of Canada.

This is Ciaran Byrne, or Ross Adey to the Dublin Detachment. He’s released a couple albums through Psychonavigation Records, and contributed to the One On Twoism compilations, a series by Twoism Records, featuring music from the Twoism Forum. Even without sampling them, I’ve a very strong notion of the sort of music on those CDs, Boards Of Canada love running deep in the online world. Not to mention ongoing, that series active to this day. Not so much Mr. Adey though, his Discogian info drying up after this album.

Everything about Nine Lives Causeway screams Boards Of Canada. Tracks like Moving Sungold, Catriona’s Liquid Hourglass, Circular Bruno, and Axiom tap the playful side of their sound, whereas Dustbeam and Ode To Able Sail go more reflective with low-slung beatcraft. Meanwhile, fuzzy ambient abstractions like They Won’t Find You Here, Pyrite Eventide, and Blue Gaze wrap the listener up like a childhood comforter blanket. Yep, that’s some Boards action right there.

Still, we’ve a fine little album here if you don’t mind having more Boards Of Canada music that’s not by Boards Of Canada. For a while, it seemed like this was all we’d ever get again.