Klaus Schulze & Pete Namlook - The Dark Side Of The Moog II

Fax +49-69/450464/MIG: 1995/2016

Make no mistake: Klaus Schulze and Pete Namlook roamed drastically different orbits in the early ‘90s, in no small part from being of two different generations of synth music. One was studious, old-school, and strictly for the art houses, consumed by egg-heads of electronic music. The other had his finger on the pulse of clubland, offering up energetic dance beats alongside his calmer, spacier moments enjoyed by knackered punters. Most attempts at melding the disparate scenes were met with indifference at best, failure at worst. And while I’ve no doubt Namlook took some inspiration from Schulze’s work, plenty other Berlin-School pioneers were still active should he have gained the courage to contact any of them. But why would any of them bother with some ‘rave’ guy in the first place?

Turns out ol’ Klaus did, detecting kinship with Mr. Kuhlmann after hearing his work on the second Air album. How the aged German came into contact with the younger German’s work was almost incidental, a brief meeting from a mutual associate, and somehow from that Schulze took in enough of a sampling of Namlook’s work to request an exchange of ideas, if not a full-on collaboration. Remarkable, considering Klaus was notorious for keeping his synth work a pure expression of his own muse with little outside input. It led to many stunning works, true, but also a fair bit of unfiltered waffle too. Hey, sounds like the bulk of Namlook’s discography as well! Clearly, a match made in stars of heaven.

The Dark Side Of The Moog II picks up where the first left off, expanding on the single-track concept with Schulze’s sounds leading for much of the proceedings. As before, the album is indexed with five minute parts, expanded by two additional tracks as we have ten extra minutes in this piece (A Saucerful Of Ambience). Again, these aren’t demarcations for any particular transition within this sixty-minute long composition, which is just as well because this is one tedious, meandering sixty-minute long composition.

The first twenty minutes is all sound-effects and field recordings, dominated by twitchy mechanical crickets, and intermittently pierced by distant gongs. It paints an outwordly vista, some landscape at the edge of an alien forest, but man does it ever go on and on. Around Part V, sci-fi pings, bleeps, and paarps provide an interlude of sorts, and then it’s back to sound effects for a bit longer (yay running waters). Finally, some half-hour in, we get actual melody, a rather typical offering of Berlin-School synth noodling, but such a welcome respite after so much abstract dithering. Namlook’s ear for trance takes a turn around Part IX, but it doesn’t last long, and we’re back to grand synth solos and field recordings for the final sixteen minutes.

Apparently both Schulze and Namlook didn’t want these efforts to sound too ‘70s, but A Saucerful Of Ambience is about as old-school as these Dark Side Of The Moogs go. They’re still getting a handle on this, methinks.

Klaus Schulze & Pete Namlook - The Dark Side Of The Moog

Fax +49-69/450464/MIG: 1994/2016

Gathering up the many, many, many volumes of Pete Namlook and Klaus Schulze’s epic collaboration series The Dark Side Of The Moog was never much of a priority. For sure if I saw one on the cheap, I’d snatch that sucker up, but odds of that happening with any release from Fax +49-69/450464 or its reissue sub-label Ambient World are absurdly low. On the other hand, a spiffy box set that does all that grueling work for me? Well shit, son, sign me up for that! And it’s what MIG done did, releasing all eleven volumes of The Dark Side Of The Moog in three bundles, plus a few bonuses for good measure. Though I remained blasé about the concept of Old Berlin-School teaming up with New Berlin-School, I’d be a fool to not spring for at least a couple of these boxes. Naturally, that now means I must review Every. Single. CD. Time for a serious knowledge drop in the project, then, but self-imposed word count runs short, so let’s get into The Dark Side Of The Moog, volume one. Eh? Of course the first wasn’t given a proper numerical demarcation. Like ol’ Pete and Klaus had any idea this would become such a long lasting thing.

If anything, Mr. Kuhlmann seems a little star-struck in his contributions for their initial session. He freely admitted as such, encouraging Mr. Schulze to do what he do best – coerce musical exotica out of crusty analog gear – and he’d work around that. This wasn’t so much about bringing one of the O.G.s of synth music into the hip ‘90s, but exploring what ‘70s music could do given two decades of technological advancements. This does lend to a rather freeform approach to songcraft, but that’s always been the Berlin School methodology regardless. If anything, it had lost its way as many synth wizards looked at making bank during the ‘80s once their sounds caught on with mainstream crowds. Those that didn’t adapt their craft to pop production or movie scores were left in relative obscurity, only later rediscovered by meticulous archivists of synthesizer chronology. Dear God, is this ever turning into a fancy-schmancy history lesson. Back to music.

The Dark Side Of The Moog (Da’ Kickoff) contains ten tracks, each titled Wish You Were There - yeah, the Pink Floyd puns can’t stop, won’t stop. And calling these individual pieces tracks is a misnomer, everything equally split five minutes apiece, save a whopping six minute finale. There are definite segments throughout, as Klaus moves through spacey kraut, sci-fi effects, and grand displays of modern classical synths, but none of the indexes mark any particular transition. About the mid-point, an electro beat emerges, leaves for some more experimental wibbling, and finally we’re treated to a little classic trance business. Not much, mind, but Namlook’s presence is definitely felt in this final stretch, whereas most of the preceding portions he sat back letting Schulze strut his stuff. They’d get better at blending their sounds.

Jlin - Dark Energy

Planet Mu: 2015

Dark Energy is the album every music journalist was anxiously waiting for, where they could finally show the world just how much they knew about the way-underground Chicago scene known as juke and footwork. For sure they had ample releases to draw from, but most of those were singles, compilations or mixes, items that just can’t fit in year-end Best Of articles, where the LP continues to dominate. No, they needed a proper album on the market to showcase all their knowledge of that particular scene, and Jlin’s debut was as good as any item for the task. I’ve barely come across a single review of Dark Energy that doesn’t start with a tedious, one-thousand word essay going on about footwork’s rise from Windy City obscurity to festival mainstage triumph, filled with tons of fancy, sophomore grammar and word salads describing the music. Dudes, it’s just fuckin’ dance music, with a sound palette no more intricate than ghetto-tech (sans the ass-n-titties) – stop over-analyzing this, especially something as primal and basic as juke.

Right, this style of music does have its complexity, in that its pure function is challenging groups of dancers in displaying their fancy footwork. And it seems music journos latched onto Dark Energy so syrupy because Jlin took the genre a bit further than that. A track like opener Black Ballet shows melodic touches with piano pieces, orchestral stabs, and chopped choir vocal complementing the rattling hi-hats, crisp snares, and thick bass – y’know, sophisticated stuff. Elsewhere, Unknown Tongues comes off like a screwy bhangra cut, Guantanamo has something of a message within its vocal samples (if you squint hard enough), while Ra almost contains a hook with its chippy manipulation of that particular word.

In fact, there’s a lot of chippy production on this album, which in of itself is part of footwork’s appeal as a dancefloor tool; challenging jukes and breakers with spastic bursts of snares, claps, and bass energy, making use of unconventional time-signatures, and such. Infrared, with its sharp synths and Mortal Kombat samples, has b-boy showdowns square in its sights. Black Diamond hits with that conga fury, and Abnormal Restriction literally takes the ‘screw’ idea of ‘chop-n-screw’ with abrasive mechanical whirring.

That all said, Jlin’s debut does get tiresome after a while. Eleven tracks that generally consists of *chik-chiki-chk clap, boom-boom-boom CLAP*, with little variation in drum kit sounds, begins showing the limitations of this genre. And while Dark Energy does show more dynamism than other rhythm-heavy ghetto tracks of scenes past, this is hardly the ‘music of the F-U-T-U-R-E’ many highfalutin critics purport it as. Yeah, Kanye will undoubtedly soon sample it, though more to prove he still knows the pulse of Chicago streets, yo’ – dude would sample gabber if he felt it’d improve his production rep. Still, if you’ve been on the fence about footwork, Dark Energy’s a decent entry point into the scene– like, anything Planet Mu has no problem promoting can’t be all bad, can it?

The Groove Corporation - Co-Operation

6 X 6 Records: 1994/1995

Another one of the great “what ifs?” of emergent UK house music, Electribe 101 was primed for crossover triumph. Talented musicians in the studio, a bourgeoning starlet in Billy Ray Martin on vocals, and Tom Watkins as their management (he of Pet Shop Boys’ success) – what could go wrong? After a strong debut album in Electribal Memories, things fell apart, including a Depeche Mode support tour that had fans booing them off stage. So it goes in this business though, and the players went their separate ways, Billy Ray Martin finding fame as a solo artist, and the remnants of Electribe 101 rebranding themselves as the reggae roots loving group Groove Corporation. And because the future G.Corp had a fondness of the dubbier side of that music, they fell in with the trendy ambient dub scene of the early ‘90s – having their studio in that movement’s home of Birmingham didn’t hurt either.

A couple early efforts on Beyond’s seminal Ambient Dub series gave Groove Corporation some underground buzz. They soon signed to the newly formed 6 x 6 Records (they of Sasha & Digweed’s Renaissance fame), their Passion E.P. giving them even greater buzz with the progressive house contingent. Things looked mighty good for the boys of G.Corp when Co-Operation finally dropped in 1994. It’s got the reggae soul, dubby-hop, and just enough crossover appeal for a record out in 1991. Ah, whoops, sorry, guys, but have you heard what Leftfield and Massive Attack were up to around this time? Kinda’ puts your sound a bit out of touch, no matter how classy it all comes off.

Things never get to ‘cod reggae’ levels on this album, but tracks like Showtime, How Did It Come To This, Rain, Twist & Change, and You feel strictly aimed for a little chart action. Can’t believe the UK was too fussed for these sounds anymore, especially from a group initially gaining its critical plaudits well away from the mainstream. Some of their proggy house tunes do make the cut (Roots Controller, Hypnotherapy, Passion), while others get right proper with the reggae dub action (Pray, This Is How I Stay, Ghetto Prayer), so Co-Operation does have a nice blend of both for favored parties of either or.

Still, maybe Groove Corporation suspected they were leaving their ambient dub followers in the dust with an album with such pop leanings, hence a limited edition version including a second CD of such music. This is where G.Corp’s in their element, tunes originating or remixed into dub instrumentals before repurposed with vocals on the Album Prime. Folks liked this bonus disc so much that Groove Corporation re-released it as an independent album with a couple additional tracks a few years after the fact, called Co-Operation Dub. Seems most of the group’s early compilation duty comes from this CD (A Voyage On The Marie-Celeste, Return Of The Skunk Unlimited Orchestra, Ghettoprayer (Deep Blue Dub)). Hm, maybe that’s why I have a bias towards it.

Aphex Twin - Cheetah EP

Warp Records: 2016

I’m flabbergasted. Stooptafried. Diskumbunkulatorated. Have had my world twisted inside the outside. Made very wery flummoxed in the bummox. Caught just a bit of guard. Cheetah has thrown me for a loop in how unconventional an Aphex Twin record can be. Where are the drill-n-bass beats? Micro-glitch edits? Synths and pads painting outwardly imagery within the furthest reaches of your lucid dreams? Not even something hidden, like that infamous visage of your grinning mug only visible within a spectrogram? There’s some fun acid in Cirklon, but nothing that’ll challenge the norms of what’s expected from a TB-303 workout. And I wouldn’t count the short sonic doodles of Cheeta1b ms800 and Cheeta2 ms800 as anything worth getting fussed about, unless that’s where Mr. Dee James is hiding one of his trademark pranks.

Or maybe there isn’t any sort of catch to this EP. Perhaps, after years of challenging what we expect from electronic music, Aphex Twin has finally decided it’s time to release some ‘normal’ dance tunes, with easy rhythms and pleasant tones. No more IDM, no more ambient; no more experiments, just plain and simple techno. Sorry, I wanted that to rhyme, but ‘trance’ is the only thing that works there, and the one thing we can all agree on is Aphex Twin has never, ever been trance. Except for perhaps Polynominal-C, if you squint your ears in the right direction.

Of course Cheetah isn’t normal in a traditional house or techno sense, but it’s definitely the most conventional sounding tunes in Aphex Twin’s repertoire in some time. The Analord series Ritichie Jameson released as ‘AFX’ is a close cousin, and we could even dig super deep into the way-back era of Polygon Window for another comparison. I’m honestly so very tempted in tossing the ‘deep’ tag onto CheetahT2 (Ld Spectrum) and CheetahT7b, in that these are some seriously slow, lazy downbeat vibes. I’ve heard they can be played at either 33 or 45 should you snag yourself the vinyl, but as I have no such medium within my possession, I’ll assume these slow versions are the correct versions as Jichard W. Rames envisioned. Besides, that acid bassline in CheetahT7b is just too damn groovy at 33 to not be intentional!

As mentioned, the Cirklon tracks get deeper into the acid funk. Cirklon1 offers more mint TB-303 bassline business, while Cirklon3 (Колхозная Mix) goes more electro. For all us CD collectors, we get bonus cut 2X202-ST5, another charming piece of drum machine foolery. There’s nothing extra special about it beyond clap fills, simply content in letting the mild acid bobble about a techno break. It’s about as b-side as any track can get, but don’t tell the vinyl enthusiasts that – they’re already miffed about losing out on this for their Aphex Twin Completist Collection. Look, you already got some of the best Analord material on the Black Crack, so you can let us have this. I wouldn’t recommend Cheetah for anyone but such Aphex completists though.

Claptone - Charmer

Different: 2015

DJs and producers hiding behind masked gimmicks are far from a unique thing in dance music. And I’ve gone on record as being a fan of the concept, even when I’m not a fan of the music they make and perform (hi, deadmau5!). It adds a saucy bit of spice to club culture, where the mantra of most scenes is to lose yourself in a sea of like-minded yet equally anonymous individuals. Having some bloke with a cool t-shirt and nice haircut bobbing behind the DJ’s deck as all lights flash upon him sullies that. If you must make your playing of other people’s music the focus of the night, why not add to the atmosphere with your own mask or costume? Such is the manifesto Claptone preaches, always donning a golden-beaked harlequin facade, a rather unsettling sight given such masks’ reputation as adorned by plague doctors.

Fortunately for Claptone, he’s more than just his gimmick, one of the surprising new stars in an overstuffed house scene. Would he have gotten to this point without the mask? Eh, probably, though you cannot deny it gave him a substantial boost. Groovy, soulful gems like No Eyes, Puppet Theatre, and Dear Life were gonna’ get repped by all the very important deep house jocks regardless, but as performed by a DJ committed to his act? Now that’s just mint, m’boy! And despite the rising fame, Claptone’s done an admirable job maintaining his obscurity. Still, I’m certain the Google return for “who is Claptone” is accurate, if only because the beard matches. The Berlin hometown is also a solid clue in this Police Squad level of sleuthing.

Anyhow, Charmer, the debut album from Claptone. The first thing that struck me while listening to it is how much it feels indebted to Hercules & Love Affair. Yeah, ‘member when vintage deep house last had a big resurgence, some eight years past? It didn’t linger (for reasons), but if it had, the music on this record is likely the sound that would have carried on in its stead. Taking garage and soul of days long past and giving it a modern sheen, all the while throwing in an assortment of indie crooners famed and obscure - sounds familiar, don't it. Singers included here are Jay-Jay Johanson, Nathan Nicholson, Young Galaxy, Peter Bjorn, Jaw, and Alec Ounsworth of Clap Your Hands Say Yeah (one of the most insufferable indie rock band names ever). And while the deep end of house generally rules Charmer, Claptone finds room for a few bumpin’ acid cuts too (The Music Got me, Party Girl, Your Body), plus a little Latin vibe in Ghost.

Charmer is definitely an album that lives up to its name, always class and never overselling itself. Even the one major complaint one can levy against it – that all the rhythms essentially boil down to a stock thunk-clap-thunk-clap template – are overcome by Claptone’s sense of songcraft. Easily one of the best deep house records of the past year, this.

Uganasie - Call Of The North

Cryo Chamber: 2014

And thus we return to the frigid sounds of Ugasanie, or Угасание in his native Belarus. This CD came out the year before Eye Of Tunguska, and for a brief time held the distinction as one of Cryo Chamber’s first sell-outs. At least, I’m assuming that was the case – I haven’t always kept tabs on the label’s Bandcamp. When I first took a proper perusal of their catalog though, this and Signals IV-V-VI were the only items with the dreaded red “Sold Out” tag attached. And that was a shame for yours truly, anxious to take a deeper plunge into Ugasanie's dark ambient world that included music of spiritual kinship with Biosphere’s work. I mean, just look at that cover art! So cold and inhospitable, yet captivating and mysterious, a realm untouched by the hand of Man, daring the spirit into challenging one’s mettle against the harshest of this planet’s clime’s. Still, I wouldn’t want to trek across the alpine glaciers reaching deep into my British Columbian backyard in the dead of winter – I just like imagining doing so.

In any event, Cryo Chamber restocked their wares, and upon seeing Call Of The North back in, I quickly snatched that one up. Funny enough, another Ugasanie album, White Silence, has since been fully plundered from the label’s stores, but I got that one way back, so it’s all good. During that uncertain in between however, I couldn’t help but wonder what it was about this album that had folks swarming in for a closer listen. Was it really just that hypnotizing cover art, or was there something more, something deeper, a masterclass of dark ambient and drone craftsmanship that stood Call Of The North above all its Cryo Chamber brethren?

Well, it’s got a nifty little concept behind it. Unlike the explicit narrative of Eye Of Tunguska, this album deals with a unique topic, that of a condition known as piblokto, or ‘Arctic Hysteria’. Essentially, there are reported cases of people going mad during the long winter night, overcome by remoteness and, if you believe in shamanism, the power of aurora. As this is strictly an Arctic phenomenon, most reported cases attributed to isolated Inuit communities and early European explorers, it’s not widely researched, with some experts doubting its status as a mental condition at all. Still, worth exploring through ambient drone, where one’s psyche is already overcome by sound.

Call Of The North traces the path of succumbing to piblokto. The first few tracks set the mood (Without The Sun, Aurora), segueing into the album’s centre as the condition takes hold. This includes an actual recording of a yukutish man taken over with Arctic hysteria (erm, in the track Arctic Hysteria), in the form of singing as dogs bark and a fire crackles – so very Biosphere. Finally, the album ends in Freezing and Cold Wasteland, wherein I picture our sufferer followed that calling of the north too far into the icy plains of the poles. Darn tricksy aurora.

Black Dog Productions - Bytes

Warp Records: 1993/2007

Most folks turn to this as the first Black Dog album, though that’s not exactly accurate. It features contributions from all of the group’s members at the time (Ken Downie, Ed Handley, and Andy Turner) operating under various guises from solo projects instead. Seems Warp Records, anxious in their continual expansion of the Artificial Intelligence series, wanted in on some of that buzz-worthy Black Dog action, but the group were already signed with General Production Recordings for an album deal. However, an exploitable loophole was discovered: take a smattering of EPs, lump them under the banner of “Black Dog Productions”, and have The Designer’s Republic design a track list that obscured these particulars. Sweet, now Warp Records can claim having a new album from The Black Dog in their catalog, sitting snug beside that Aphex-not-Aphex “Polygon Window” album. Man, did B12 give the early Warp this much fuss too?

Bytes contains tracks from nearly every alias the three chaps were using in 1993 (only one-off Twelve Days Of Night is absent). This includes Close Up Over, Xeper, Atypic, I.A.O., Discordian Popes, Balil, and Plaid. That last one you most definitely know, and funnily enough had a debut album out a couple years prior to this, Mbuki Mvuki, released on the label Black Dog Productions. Yep, the Black Dog boys briefly had their own label, which must be where all these various aliases originated from. Nah, that makes things far too simple for this story.

Ed Handley’s Balil had floated from a few seminal prints in its own right, among them R & S Records, Rising High Records, and Planet E; meanwhile, Andew Turner’s Atypic first appeared on Applied Rhythmic Technology (ART). The rest of these tracks and aliases seem custom made for this particular release, which further begs the question how this all came about. Like, was it really necessary for Downie to take on three different pseudonyms for this project? I’ll grant Discordian Popes stands out from Xeper and I.A.O., in that it’s a pure techno track, whereas the other two are more ambient techno, but there’s not that much difference between the three.

With no clear concept behind Bytes beyond showcasing the individual talents of The Black Dog’s members, it’s definitely a scattershot of a listening experience. The first few tracks lean more to the Detroit side of techno, though the seeds of IDM’s complex drum programming are clearly germinating within these efforts. When melodic elements are added in follow-up tracks, the notion of electronic music being as much suitable for ‘intelligent’ endeavors as dance floor utility is as evident as anything within the Artificial Intelligence series. Unfortunately, this is still one very ‘tracky’ album, much of Bytes’ middle jerkily moving from standard techno production to cautious experimental indulgence. Can’t fault that finish though, two blissy Balil cuts with funky Detroit action in the middle. Overall, this album's more consistent than the proper Black Dog debut, Temple Of Transparent Balls, though less adventurous too.

Neil Young - Blue Note Café

Reprise Records: 2015

While the idea of Neil Young becoming a Chicago bluesman named Shakey Deal, supported by a nine-piece band called The Blue Notes, has some intrigue behind it, I wasn’t itching to hear the results. If anything, the controversy surrounding the project’s lead single, This Note’s For You, was far more fascinating, for the video was initially banned from MTV. Whoa, what hardcore content could have been within that made the supposed edgy music station so worrisome? Potentially pissing off corporate sponsors was all, but considering the video featured a Michael Jackson stand-in catching fire, you can bet the estate that helped build the station’s rep would get a might bit ticked. And yet, This Note’s For You won MTV’s Best Video Award that same year. Irony!

A good ol’ Young controversy is always worth checking out the associated material, but an album of modern blues rock wasn’t the most appealing. For one, studio recordings of the stuff seldom did the genre favors, especially with ‘80s production standards. Plus, this felt a bit of a bandwagon jump, this sort of music gaining traction with lots of rockers of the era. Well fool me on that one, the truth a simpler story. Yeah, big musicians like Eric Clapton and U2 were searching for the ‘roots’ of their music in America, and everyone celebrated Stevie Ray Vaughn’s return to grace, but beyond that? Nay, big band blues revival no more significant in the late ‘80s than before the sound’s resurgence at the start of that decade (re: The Powder Blues). Young’s dalliance with a backing brass band was just that, a spurt of inspiration he was quick to capture, then just as quickly move on once the tour was done. It's why beyond the titular single and maybe Ten Men Workin’, no one remembers much from the resultant album. Most of the tunes were hastily slapped together, basic songs that his band could riff over to their heart’s content – typical Neil Young, then.

Still, it was enough for many ace nights on the tour. A live album was even initially planned, but since the album proper didn’t sell that well, it was shelved, Young moving onto better things (like Rockin’ In the Free World). That didn’t stop a plethora of bootlegs from hitting the market though, especially for the die-hard collector as the tour yielded a bevy of new, unreleased material. Some of it occasionally sprinkled out over the years, including the epic Ordinary People two decades after the fact, but most figured these recordings were forever lost. Praise be unto thee, Archives Project!

Two CDs of various gigs stitched together is overkill, but damn if there isn’t tons of great music within. So many unearthed gems (Don’t Take Your Love Away From Me, Bad News Comes To Town, Doghouse), epic takes on classics (Tonight’s The Night, Crime In The City, Ordinary People), and all the bluesy guitar solos you can handle. A lot of trumpet and saxophone too, if that’s your jam.

Massive Attack - Blue Lines

Virgin: 1991/2012

So Blue Lines, the album that kicked off Tricky’s career. Yeah, sorry for the lame intro, but all the good ones were used in the past two decades. The “Few Records Deserve The ‘Seminal’ Tag, But This One Truly Does” angle; the “Once In A Blue Moon, A New Genre Is Born” take; the “Would Bristol Be Such A Prominent ‘90s Music Hub Without Blue Lines?” thinkpiece; a “If You Listen To Five Man Army Carefully, You Can Hear Subliminal Banksy Messages!” waffle. But man, that Tricky guy, where would he be without Massive Attack? Like, I’m sure he’d have gotten an album or two under his belt regardless, but his work with this group certainly gave him a boost.

Okay, enough malarkey on my part. Let’s talk about this most important record in trip-hop history, despite it barely having any trip-hop in it at all. There’s definitely early aspects of the genre lurking throughout – tracks like Five Man Army, Daydreaming, and One Love feature that slow, hazy mood the genre built its reputation on. This is more a product of Massive Attack incorporating several urban influences into their sound though, which included reggae dub popularized by many a Jamaican expat residing in London. And while Bristol’s music scene was generally their own thing, the dudes behind Massive Attack were more than familiar with what was what in the elsewheres of their country. All that time as part of The Wild Bunch sound system crew provided plenty exposure to various musical movements, leading to the varied genre blending heard throughout Blue Lines. Not just the spliff-heavy hip-hop, but R&B, reggae, funk, and soul find their way inside this tidy nine-tracker of a record, often within the same song. It’s easy to hear why music journalists were creaming their pants over this album, thrilled at hearing so many classy forms of music expertly fused into a groovy whole.

And yet I wonder, was this really that big a deal back in the early ‘90s? Seems every second British album from across the spectrum was doing something radically different in genre fusion. I’ll grant adding dub production to hip-hop beats was unique compared to what America was doing, but this wasn’t exclusive to trip-hop in the slightest: ambient, house, techno, R&B (rock?), all got in on that action too. More often than not, Massive Attack stick to conventional music, sparingly pushing the boundaries into uncharted territory. Be Thankful For What You’ve Got is the sort of UK soul peddled for a few years then. Unfinished Sympathy, the breakout single of the album, has New Jack Swing going for it, though obviously drenched in gospel charm.

Still, if those are about the only nitpicks I can fault Blue Lines for, then this album’s reputation is more than deserved. Considering many ‘dance’ albums from this era are way dated, this one easily stands the test of time, its multitude of influences making it a timeless piece of music.