Islands Of Light - Ruebke

Home Normal: 2014

It's always nice whenever I get a timely album to review, and there's no better time than now if I'm gonna' write about music inspired by the autumn falls. The local Vancouver fauna is in full colourful decay now, with leaves shedding all that energy-producing chlorophyll as they hunker down for a bitter West Coast winter (bottoming out at -5 degrees Celsius; brutal!). Most trees in my neighbourhood settle for the yellows and oranges and browns, but there's a few in other areas with a blazing red foliage, nearly blinding my eyes as sunlight reflects off them.

Eventually though, they'll all fall into the streets, forming huge piles that will never, ever be taken away by municipality services. The rains will come, washing the leaf piles onto all the sewer drains, clogging them. Giant ponds – curb lakes, as some call them – will form, as the rains won't stop, and the drains won't get unclogged. Meanwhile, the huge leaf piles on the streets that aren't washed away will start rotting, congealing into festering lumps of slimy biomass, occasionally freezing overnight if the rains let up and the temperature drops low enough. After a time, the city will take the lumps of rot and decay away, but not without leaving a smear upon the pavement, from which will never leave until the spring sun warms and bakes the residue away. I'm not reviewing more dark ambient here, I swear!

I doubt Dino Spiluttini had all that in mind when crafting Ruebke, an album centred around the change of summer to fall, even releasing it on the autumn equinox of 2014. Sure, the shortening days and chillier temperature can bring a sombre vibe to our daily going-ons, but ooh, pretty leaf colours, yo'!

Much of Dino's work entails modern classical with droning overtones, often maintaining a melancholic mood throughout, so an autumn-themed album makes sense within his discography. However, he felt an itch to explore something more piano based, and thus created this alternate alias of Islands Of Light to do so. Yes, in a bizarre coincidence, I got myself another piano album on that Ultimae Records Shop splurge. It was never my intent, but lo', such interesting cover arts, these piano ambient albums have.

It isn't all piano music either, Mr. Spiluttini's classical drone finding its way into pieces like Honung, Heisternest, and Heimfeld. And while gentle, quiet, reflective keyboard playing is the main mood throughout Ruebke, there are a couple chipper pieces too – like busy squirrels rummaging about looking for fallen hazelnuts. Meummelmannsberg in particular sounds like he's using piano strings and even the frame as a form of percussion, and even settles into a string drone before returning with the clanking piano. Why yes this is the most interesting track on the album.

Overall, Ruebke feels like an album best served gazing out into a brisk autumn evening, a cool mist oozing through the firework displays of trees prepping for seasonal twilight. Through a window, that is.

Miami Beach Force - The Revenge

Werkstatt Recordings: 2014

This is about as peak synthwave as you're gonna' find, isn't it? Like, I'm hesitant calling it cliche, because part of the scene's modus operani is taking the cliches we associate with '80s synth music and art, and relishing in them. No Carpenter movie untouched, no hard-boiled cop show with pastel suits left un-homage'd. True, this title's lacking anything pulp sci-fi or purple vector grid based, but when we think of the most Cannon of films out there, it's always cheap, direct-to-VHS action movie sequels involving some form of revenge, typically undertaken by an action force, and half the time set in Miami. Or Los Angeles, if the film crew is really cheaping out on location shoots.

What I find funny about billing yourself as Miami Beach Force is, depending on the era, you could have been a completely different type of music. Obviously if an M.B.F. posse had existed in the Actual Eighties, they'd have been a freestyle act, rockin' the Planet Rock break as everyone from Miami was (or lift it direct from the Kraftwerk's Numbers break, they weren't picky). Flash forward to the Nineties, however, and an act going by the nom de plume of Miami Beach Force could have been anything from Florida breaks to trunk-rattling audio bass to even some Latin infused dance music (reggaeton, maybe? It had started its migration by then). What it definitely would not have been, however, was anything retro-synth related, such sounds utterly unhip and dead throughout that decade. The '00s are trickier to nail, all manner of scenes likely contenders for drumming up a Miami Beach Force handle: electro house, a crunk crew, even an insufferably ironic emo punk band!

In this case though, Miami Beach Force are in fact a pair of Swedish brothers (I'm assuming brothers, what with both having last names of Ekman), and have mostly plied their synthwave sounds through Soundcloud streams. Werkstatt Recordings gave them their first taste of proper label distribution with this particular EP, which was kinda-sorta their second release...? They had enough prior tunes on their Soundcloud to make up an album's worth, but I'm not seeing any other outlets curating them into such (and lord knows Lord Discogs remains indignant with these streaming synthwavers). They've eked out a little career since the release of The Revenge, even appearing on that hip New York City synthwave label NewRetroWave, but that's neither here nor there (what a strange phrase, that).

I wish I had more to say about The Revenge, but I'm still quite synthwave'd out right now, and Miami Beach Force aren't doing anything here that distances them from the pack. It's got a couple moody numbers, a couple high-octane cuts, and it all sounds very vintage and deserving of a mini-movie staring tough, mullety cops out on the beat, serving up justice in a neon-soaked glow. Stylishly. Sexily. While ducking for cover behind white brick walls. And dammit, they really could use a shave. That perpetual 5am shadow must be itchy.

Plaid - Reachy Prints

Warp Records: 2014

I've gotten the Most Important Plaid album (Not For Threes) and the latest (because it was there), but there's a hefty clutch of material between those two points, not much of which gets talked about. You'd think Warp Records would be more generous in promoting the Plaid discography, veterans of their label and all, but then it's not like the duo have the same clout other IDM wonks on the print. Everyone with a passing familiarity with electronic music knows of Aphex Twin, Autechre, and Squarepusher (because journalists keep name-dropping them as bases of comparison... *cough*), but poor Plaid gets lost in the shuffle.

On the other hand, the duo didn't do themselves many favours following the turn of the millennium. Most of their '00s was spent getting into the soundtrack gig, leading some to wonder whether they'd given up on regular Plaid output. An album called Scintilli eventually popped up in 2011, but folks didn't hear much on there that lit their world on fire, plus the duo almost immediately went back to work on another score, so things looked dicey for the Plaid-Heads of the world. I don't know what a hardcore Plaid fan is called. A Flaid?

Scintilli had some supporters, mind you, but it seems with Reachy Prints, the global Flaid brigade finally got the album they'd been waiting on for over a decade, a return to form for the purveyors of clever beatcraft, charming melodies, and all the things Flaids enjoy from Plaid. There are a couple nods to contemporary trends (glitchy rhythms, etc.) but seeing as how Plaid were doing contemporary trends long before they were trendy or contemporary, things fit quite snugly within their larger discography while sounding not a touch out of time. Except maybe Liverpool St, the obligatory orchestral tune that sounds better served in a soundtrack. Just can't shake that itch, I guess. All said, Reachy Prints is a lovely little album, if rather short, but is a nice entry point for those who haven't been swayed by Plaids muse yet, even if they still aren't doing that 'super-serious challenging IDM' stuff their Warp Records brethren are known for.

And that's when it finally hit me as to why Plaid never seemed to get the same name-drops as the Aphexes and Autechres, despite hailing from the same ambient techno lineage: their brand of IDM isn't 'challenging' enough for the true critics and connoisseurs of this scene. You know the ones, who are very serious about how they listen to music, and can only accept it if it's actively fighting the brain's natural biases and disposition towards rhythm and melody. Plaid's music ain't like that, at least to not the same extreme, so of course all the Very Important Talkers aren't always talking 'bout them. Me though, I'm not very important at all, so have no problem talking Plaid, and I'm talking up Reachy Prints if you need a nice, easy, tasty primer into their work.

Scott Grooves - Pure Mixin' It: A Decade Of Natural Midi 2007-2017

Natural Midi: 2017

It's Bandcamp's fault my music collection's ballooned to its current size. Take Scott Grooves, a dude most know from his hit Mothership Reconnection of two decades past, and perhaps only the Daft Punk rub at that. It certainly was about the extent of my knowledge of the man, but in scoping out his Discogs page while Adding Pieces Of A Dream To [my] Collection, I couldn't help but check out that Bandcamp link as well. To satisfy my curiosity, see, of the sort of swag Mr. Grooves may have available. And while most of it featured your usual digital releases, vinyl releases, and assorted t-shirts and slipmats, a CD compilation of older material couldn't pass me by. That's not what I'm digging into here though, but rather a bonus CDr Mr. Grooves threw in with my purchase. Only, this too has a proper release, just not the version I got, which looks more like a demo. I've made this sound more confusing than it is. Point is, because of Bandcamp, where I intended to buy one CD, I somehow ended up with two. No wonder I'm already in need of more wall-mounted shelves.

Soma Quality Recordings may have been instrumental in giving Scott Grooves his biggest breakout, but the man from Detroit has generally been a strict student of Detroit Independence, setting up his own labels to release his own music, screw whatever promotional push a bigger print affords. Thus after the Soma experiment ended, he retreated back to his own devices, initially starting up the From The Studio Of Scott Grooves print. That one is still technically in operation, but hasn't offered much material since its inception beyond reissues and 7” vinyl. Seems the other label he set up after, Natural Midi, has received more of his attention, singles released at a steady clip since 2007. As the title of this CD states, it's had ten years of operation, and what better time than last year to whip up a little celebratory mix of your tunes. None better time, says I.

Naturally, I hadn't a clue what sort of music Scott Grooves had been releasing on Natural Midi. Like, I assumed it would be house, because that's been his breaded butter since the early '90s, but I wasn't expecting house music so stripped down and retro, especially after the slickly produced and polished Pieces Of A Dream. Right, that album came out a decade before the first Natural Midi single (A'round Midnight, for the record, though nothing from that record appears on here), plenty of time for Scott to feel that classic Detroit itch to return to the basics of house and techno. Plus, y'know, 'minimal' was trendy in 2007, so a stripped-down sound wouldn't be out of place anyway.

And despite the retro production, Groove's namesake still carries through all of these tracks, that unmistakable, ever-present, deep Motor City funk no matter how simple these tunes get. An acquired taste, for sure, but one that remains timeless.

GosT - Possessor

Blood Music: 2018

If I'd been more slack in my review schedule, I could have had this album out for a spiffy Halloween date. Nothing spookier than demon possession, with The Exorcist often hailed as one of the most frightening movies ever committed to celluloid. I wonder though, is demon possession really a Halloween thing? Like, the Church Of Satan, from which GosT takes a lot of inspiration from, exists year-round, so most things associated with Hellspawn, Beelzebub, and the whole kebab would be as well. Heck, I remember in ye' olde date of June 6, 2006, a big media blitz surrounding a scary movie about Satan or something (a remake of The Omen, I believe?), and that's as far from late October as you can get without being April 30. Regardless, despite the latter half of October being dedicated to all things spooky, scary, and devilish, something like demon possession is probably considered a phenomenon priests must be vigilant against all days of the year. If you buy into that sort of thing, anyway.

Like, I appreciate The Exorcist as a white-knuckle, psyche-mauling thriller, but despite my name, I'm not Christian. The religious implications of that movie and the events its based upon don't phase or frighten me. That said, I cannot deny GosT's Possessor is one of the few times that I've been suitably unnerved listening to music. And considering the amount of dark ambient I've listened to, that's no mean feat.

There's no denying hearing guttural Latin screamed like a wailing banshee will scare the bejeezus out of any soul, but too often I've heard it used as little more than a jump-scare, especially in the context of music. A lot of high-BPM hardcore loves its Exorcist samples, which is fine in amplifying the extreme nature of that genre, but it doesn't actually fill me with fear. Hearing GosT use it in the chaotic, cacophonic climax of closer Commandment though, sweet merciful God, it makes me want to reach for a rosemary.

While it's not all Hell-shrieks in Possessor, GosT does play things out more viciously than even his usual aggressive fare. Sigil and Malum get more on a darkwave vibe, The Powler and Loudas Deceit reach back to GosT's electro-house roots (with some requisite horror movie strings and samples, 'natch), while Shiloh's Lament is a fierce slice of apocalyptic outrun, but these are the album's outliers. GosT generally sludge his tracks right down before unleashing a heavy, thrashy assault of synths and samples, letting you know under no uncertain terms that the endtimes are nigh, and GosT, possessed by Baal, is leading the charge.

Still, it does sometimes come off corny to my ears. There's only so much “this are serious horror music!” I can take before it crosses into the realms of parody, the sort of thing low-grade death metal is rightfully mocked for. For the most part though, GosT toes the line well enough, such that my eyes are buggin' out rather than rollin' out.

Autumn Of Communion - Polydeuces

...txt: 2016

Oh ho, another album I got a digital version of due to over-inflated out-of-print CD scarcity? Nah, fam', I actually did take the Discogs Marketplace route with this one, the alluring cover art of Saturn constantly drawing me to its page for a lovingly glance, all the while scoping for a chance 'discount' opportunity. And lo', one did emerge, for a 'reasonable' €25 - still a tad over what I would normally pay for a CD, but about as good as I figured I'd ever get on the used market. Besides, the seller was Mick Chillage himself, and seeing as how he likely never saw a single penny for those records I bought from Psychonavigation Records, I guess it's fair he receives a little extra financial compensation on this one.

So, Polydeuces, the first album Autumn Of Communion (Chillage and Lee Norris, in case you're just tuning in) released after all their prior albums had been numerical self-titled outings. It also marked the start of the duo's more freeform approach to songcraft, going in with little preconceived notion of what music they'd make, what sounds they'd build, what gear they'd utilize. They'd go full-tilt with the concept in the following Broken Apart... series, but here it sounds as though they're still in a feeling-out process, figuring out just how in-sync their musical synergy truly was when they're simply letting things flow as they go. Mind, I still only have Autumn Of Communion 4 as a base of comparison with their older material, their other albums just as out-of-print as this one. Except for that massive box-set they released, which I skipped on because, eh, I already have four of their albums now. Seemed redundant to get them again, y'know, especially having just sprung for this one on the Discogs Marketplace. Hmm, the timing on that, now that I think about it...

Anyhow, five main tracks are contained within Polydeuces, most hovering in the ten-to-thirteen minute mark, with a tiny three-minute stinger at the end. With titles like Oort Cloud and Cassini Spacecraft (squeee!), you bet we're on some space-age vibes here. Um, there's also tracks called Tectonics and Sikhote-Alin Mountains, about as earthly of concepts as you can get. And finally, a pair of tracks called Cathode Memory and Kolbe Reaction, which brings things down to the microscopic realms. Is it any surprise these tracks are conceptually arranged from 'bigness' to 'smallness'?

Naturally, we're mostly in ambient's domain here. Some tracks come off like long-lost compositions for a Hearts Of Space planetarium score, others edging closer to the realms of ambient techno, often within the same track. For a supposed freeform approach to creating these pieces, each track never feels like it's just randomly dawdling about, and Tectonics even offers a bit of an ear-wormy hook, in that understated ambient techno sort of way. I doubt Polydeuces will convert anyone to Autumn Of Communion's charms, but at seven albums deep, Mick and Lee deserved a little creative indulgence.

Cryogenic Weekend - Polar Sleep

Reverse Alignment: 2018

Some days, the world gets you down, and you want to escape it all, but where? Space flight to distant stars is still in the realm of sci-fi fantasy, and despite what Disney movies suggest, running under the sea solves nothing – just a vast, barren abyss, carrion eaters looking for any score. And everywhere else, there's people. In the forests, on the mountains, in the deserts... people everywhere! The polar regions though, ain't hardly anyone 'round those parts. You could reside there and not see a soul for ages.

Heck, if other sci-fi stories are believable, one could go to an Antarctic glacier, bury yourself in the ice, and remain in cryo sleep for centuries, presumably waking up in the future when things are different. Right, there's a chance things are worse in the future after such a sleep (re: Sabled Sun), but they could be better too! And if it doesn't work, well, at least one will have gotten a nice, lonely sleep, with none of the worries of the world bothering you. Unless... you're not so alone in all that ice as you thought. Who knows what could be frozen away for a millennia, sleeping, waiting for such a time that mankind's hubris melts its glacial prison, unleashing it upon an unsuspecting civilization. And hey, if I just happened to be snoozing beside it in that time, maybe we can be, like, bunk buddies, me serving as a right-hand man in its impending rampage. Or it's first sacrifice. I ain't picky.

Cryogenic Weekend is a collaborative effort between Dronny Darko and Oil Texture, the latter of which I know little of. Apparently the two had never met, but somehow found each other to create a couple mini-albums of frigid dronescapes as their inspiration. Sounds like someone's been feeling that Ugasanie vibe! As is Reverse Alignment's wont, the label compiled the two mini-albums for a CD release, with Cryogenic Weekend throwing in a third CD's worth of extra material for a triple-LP outing in Polar Sleep. Holy cow, this is gonna' be as though I am trapped within the frozen wastes, isn't it?

Well, this album sure is a lengthy drone fest, of that there's no doubt. There's fourteen tracks total, which may not seem like a lot, but considering it's three CDs worth, there's no small cuts here (save five-minute Darkest Glide). There also aren't any obscenely long tracks, most hovering around the ten-to-twelve minute mark, with a few reaching a few minutes longer. And yeah, it's all foreboding, desolate, claustrophobic, icy drone ambient, almost no hint of melody in earshot. There's some field recordings scattered about (burbling and churning in Flotation Tank, radio chatter in Who Couldn't Remember, barking dogs in Faraday Station ...oh God, why are the dogs barking!?), and Towa Tödo features lonesome bell tones. Beyond that though, you're in for one deep descent into the frozen fringes of icy ambient. Be sure to wear a parka and bring a flame-thrower for your headphones.

Peter Broderick - Partners

Erased Tapes Records: 2016

I'm perusing the Ultimae online record shop, sifting through a bunch of items, when one with a striking cover catches my eye, as cover art is wont to do. Like, it's not derelict boats, but dead trunks of trees strewn across a beach, bathed in the dark blue of pre-dawn (maybe), it triggers something within my grey matter of a wistful past. I'm certain this is a shot of the Oregon Coast, a lovely strip of Earth where the endless Pacific crashes upon sandy dunes, filling the surrounding lands with salty air (wait...). It's not too dissimilar to the regions of the West Coast Of Canada that I grew up in, though my locales were far more rocky than the Oregon sands, due to all the fjords creating different erosion conditions. See, with all the power of the Pacific crashing down, waves and wind can erode coasts with ease, but fjords limit that process, all the while creating larger tidal pools where a multitude of crabs, shellfish, starfish, regular fish, and seaweed flourish. Life as we know it may not have existed without these tide pools! Not that I'm saying sandy beaches are over-rated, but c'mon, give those slimey, slippery rock beaches with the gas-filled seaweed that squeaks and pops when you walk over it, as though crying in pain from your negligence, a little respect, yo'.

ANYHOW, I just had to buy Peter Broderick's album blind. Like, I thought the name looked a little familiar, and it turned out I had seen it as part of the Slaapwel Records catalogue, plus an interview with Resident Advisor, but that was the extent of my recognition of the man. Looking through his Discoggian data reveals a lot of albums released in the past decade on a number of labels I don't know of (Kning Disk, Digitalis Limited, Fang Bomb, Hush Records, Brian Records, Type), though he's made Erased Tapes Records a semi-home as of late. He's also run the gamut in terms of musical leanings, indulging in folk rock, dream pop, and modern classical, to name-drop a few.

It's in the modern classical camps we find Partners, and of the 'minimalist piano as played in an grand empty concert hall' variety at that. I didn't know that when I bought the album, and after hearing the opening track, I thought I was in for something entirely different, some sort of spoken-word poetry record. That's just the first track though, and there's an exhaustive detailing behind the process it came about, which ties into the second track, Mr. Broderick's take on the John Cage composition In A Landscape. Cage's deconstructionist methods inspired Peter's own piano pieces, something about rolling dice, assigning numbers to notes, re-rolling to determine their order... It's all rather artistically pretentious sounding, but the music itself is quite pleasant, with subtle electronic touches and treatments filling in the ambience. Definitely an album where the process can be a tad thick, but it doesn't detract from the finished product.

Mahiane - Oxycanta

Ultimae Records: 2006

After years (a decade!) of ducking, dodging, denying, and diatribing, I've finally relinquished. Oh, you knew such a time would come wherein I'd go back on my word, my proclamation, my mantra. The ceaseless thrust of progress demands sacrifice, tossing the norms of old into the tempestuous Cauldron Of Change (defeat a Level 72 balrog to attain said cauldron!), including a music collector's steadfast ideology that if a physical copy of an item exists, he shall not buy the digital version. What is said music collector to do, though? There exist artifacts of old that, while attainable, are financially unfeasible to procure. Maybe a time will come when such items work their way out of the over-inflated collector's market, and into the more practical used market, but so long as the demand exists, so too do the scalpers. And out-of-print Ultimae CDs, the demand is high indeed.

It is thus, under such circumstances, that I sprung for the digital releases of a few such select items in their catalogue. I choose them sparingly, logically, knowing the odds of them seeing any sort of re-issue at this late point is nil. The albums, they all have some chance of resuscitation, but the second-tier compilations, what hope have they? None, common sense tells me, so it is with defeated resignation that I finally complete my Oxycanta collection with the digital version of the first in the series, released a year before I knew the label even existed.

Still, I get some small sense of rhyming the circle, or echoing my mirror, or whatever cliche you prefer. It was the second Oxycanta – Winter Blooms, that truly lured me into Ultimae's fold and all the wonderful, panoramic sonic delights the label could offer. It makes sense I finish the path I started with as I embark upon another undiscovered country.

As this is mid-'00s Ultimae, you know you're in good hands music-wise, the label really hitting its stride. Music includes all the main players of the time (Asura, Solar Fields, Aes Dana, one-half of CBL), plus a couple future luminaries to grace their discography (Cell, Hybrid Leisureland). Kind of disappointing that some of their tracks have appeared elsewhere, making Oxycanta a tad redundant for the Ultimae completist, but you also get a couple exclusives from these dudes too, so all balances out. Scope out the compilation to find out which I'm referring to!

As for the rest of the tracklist, it includes some rather unknown ambient composers (Between Interval's Aerolith reminds me of Space Ace's Sea Of Japan - now that's an obscure call-back!), the Ultimae office posse (Vincent, Mahiane, Dessaeaux) collaborating for a tune as Subgardens, and a track from Omnimotion. Wait, the same Omnimotion that appeared on Waveform Records? Why, so it is! Small world, eh? His ultra-blissed ambient piece Magic Tree's a wonderful meditative closer to Oxycanta, with sounds like a tall, creaking tree slowly swaying in the wind as you chill among its branches. Gravity never felt so irrelevant.

ACE TRACKS: September 2018

Ah, the 2018 releases are finally trickling in. Slowly, steadily, but surely enough. It just takes a bit of time for me to gather up some items that interest me, for them to filter through my convoluted alphabetical systematic approach in consuming them, and finally find my thoughts course through the neural membranes sending signals to the bones, tendons, tissues, and muscles that control my arms and fingers typing them such that they can be transmitted via other electronic pulses into a-

You know what, let's just end this here. We all know how long this path of over-explaining the blogging process can go. Still, it's remarkable all the little things that must correctly happen for my thoughts to have a chance to enter your eyeballs, no matter where you reside on this little life-sustaining ellipsoid. I'm getting way to philosophical right now, so *poop joke*, and we're off the ACE TRACKS of September 2018.


Full track list here.


MISSING ALBUMS:
B°TONG - Monastic
Kubinski - Life Boy

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 6%
Percentage Of Rock: 0% ...unless you want to count folky Young and glitched-up Sweet Trip rock.
Most “WTF?” Track: Either some of those Dr. Octagon lyrics, or hearing the minor-trap in Perturbator. (it just not done, mang!)

Pretty good playlist, all round. Enough variety to keep things interesting as it plays, with a few genres getting the shine over others if you've a preference for it (yeah yeah, ambient always dominates). I know it's a wild coincidence, but I'm surprised how some of the Patreon Request music meshed well together. You'd think different people would have radically different albums they'd want highlighted, but maybe I've cultivated a certain kind of audience?