Scooter - Age Of Love (Original TC Review)

Club Tools: 1997

(2018 Update:
My head tells me I should hate this. My gut tells me it. Heck, even my heart tells me it. Yet, there's something that always keeps me from hating this album like I'm told I'm supposed to. Some overpowering feels from the spleen? Like, I don't go out of my way to play this often, maybe once every few years, save a chance random encounter on my media player's shuffle option, but when it does play, I still get into it just the same. I think this album releases the same stoopid-fun endorphins tracks like Sash!'s Ecuador does, and there's nothing wrong with that. We all have our silly little pleasures within our musical tastes, and if you don't, then I imagine you're just a dreadful bore to be around.

As for how Scooter's career went after I wrote this review, the group jumped on the dubstep bandwagon. Of course they would.)


IN BRIEF: Scooter’s turning point.

As vehemently as they’ll deny it, it’s safe to say a lot of EDM’s followers went through a Scooter phase. For some it may have been a brief flirtation during their initial rave years, others a lingering dedication. However long it was though, the reasons for it tend to be the same: the group made some undeniably fun anthems.

Ah, you’ve noticed the use of past tense. I suppose I should explain. Y’see, friends, Scooter’s discography can easily be split into two eras, each with a number of name variations. For example: Bueller years/post-Bueller years; pre-excessive covers/post-excessive covers; pre-shit/shit. Whatever you call it, Scooter’s initial mid-90s output was a guilty pleasure for many. That all changed when Ferris Bueller (aka: Sören Bühler, H.P.'s cousin) left and the group and began relying more on covers rather than original productions for their hit singles. Accusations of ‘sell-out’ and ‘going to Hell in a cheese basket’ dominated many discussions, and Scooter became the target of every biting punch-line regarding the worst aspects of commercialized dance. They may not have much artistic credibility left, but who cares about that when you can fight with Cascada for top spot on the dance charts, eh?

Anyhow, a change of direction often has a catalyst, and their album Age Of Love certainly was that. Beyond the fact this was the last Bueller album, there’s a sense Scooter were aiming for larger audiences than their initial happy hardcore fanbase, and why not? This was 1997 here, folks, when everyone figured they just might have a chance at hitting the big time. So how does one go about doing so?

First, out goes the hardcore and in comes more of the trance; nearly half the album is dedicated to the popular club style of the era that wasn't too different from most euro-dance (re: pre-epic). Next, branch out into other genres that are garnering attention from the masses: big beat, jungle, rock hybrids -‘electronica’, in other words. And finally, have one of your singles feature on a major motion picture to grab that always lucrative non-electronic consumer. Perfect formula for success, right? Um...

Alright, the big single here, Fire, certainly did succeed in its aim. Aside from the fact it is a decent bit of hard dance fun, by featuring on sequel soundtracks to Mortal Kombat and Hackers, Scooter got to rub elbows with respected names like Leftfield, The Prodigy, and Juno Reactor. Along the way, the thrashin’ guitar riffs grabbed the approving attention of many metal-heads. I’d commonly hear “fuck, that fucking techno shit is fucking shit, but Fire’s alright” from long-haired associates.

Then there’s The Age Of Love. I’ve heard it called corny, cheesy, and a complete rip-off of the Terminator theme; in trying to combine the sounds of trance with the effusive sentimentality of happy hardcore, Scooter created a disgrace of a tune. Oh shut up. Yes, it is all those things. That’s exactly the point! It’s what Scooter did so well in those days: pure, guilt-free anthemic fun. This is ‘stadium techno’ as The KLF spearheaded, and The Age Of Love is just as effective as anything they did.

The rest of the album mostly amounts to agreeable filler. There really isn’t anything that is whole-sale awful, but nor does it leap out at you as essential either. Hit The Drum stands out a bit more by getting back to a ‘stadium techno’ sound, and includes one of H.P.’s more ridiculous lines: “‘Cause we are ready to shake the nation with another creation!” Also, Tonight’s take on ol’ school jungle and Return Of The Future’s standard trance execution are intriguingly entertaining, mostly for the fact they veer so far off the expected Scooter path; if you didn’t know better, you’d swear they were by another act. However, these examples didn’t win over their detractors then, and they certainly won’t today either.

Still, Age Of Love is probably one of the better albums in Scooter’s discography. Even when the songs are little more than simple dance pop, they present them with such infectious zesty energy it is hard to resist, provided you leave the Bitter Beer in the cooler before listening. If you are quite new to this whole electronic music thing, you could do worse (like Scooter’s recent offerings). And even if you aren’t, Age Of Love still has a bit of charm for those moments when you just need a reason to get up and shout. Nothing wrong with that, now is there?

ACE TRA-

Oh, wait. There’s one more track here. A cover of a Depeche Mode song. Hold on... *plays the ballad Leave In Silence*

I take it all back. Scooter are shit.

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

Enigma - Age Of Loneliness

Virgin: 1994

This was kinda'-sorta' Enigma's lead single going into their second LP, The Cross Of Changes, though existing as Carly's Song at that point. And as it was produced between albums, it sounds more like a left-over from MCMXC a.D., utilizing all the musical tricks Michael Cretu turned into a global smash on such tracks like Sadeness and Mea Culpa: ethnic vocal sample, woodwinds, Sandra's whispery voice, heavy sexy rhythms. Not quite at his Return To Innocence stage, then, but what can you expect for something made specifically for the Sharon Stone erotic thriller Sliver?

In fact, Mr. Cretu was approached to score the whole movie. Makes sense, as his music – or more specifically, knock-offs of Sadeness - had been popping up in many Skinemax films throughout the early '90s. As Sliver was the hotly anticipated follow-up to Sharon Stone's star-making turn in Basic Instinct, an appropriately sexy-sounding soundtrack was required, so why not get the real deal? However, Cretu was already moving on from that sound, getting more in touch with the New Age side of his muse – less sensuality, more spirituality. He still offered up a song, Carly's Song (Carly was the name of Stone's character), and even had an artsy erotic music video made for it with Stone lip-syncing the lyrics. The movie critically bombed though, leaving that single a quirky footnote in the Enigma canon.

Fast forward a year, The Cross Of Changes comes out, and rather than letting Carly's Song sit fallow, Cretu gave it some light retouches, turning it into Age Of Loneliness for the album. There must have been enough buzz surrounding the track as heard there, for it was re-released as the third single from the album, and given a whole new video in support. This time, something MTV friendly, wide shots of a sepia Manhattan with superimposed people floating in water, as though hovering about a myriad of urban locales. I've had dreams like that.

As for the single itself, there's only two items of note, including Cretu's own clubby remix of the track. Though he has dabbled in uptempo tunes, we generally don't think of Enigma as a dancefloor friendly act, but the Enigmatic Club Mix offers a convincing argument in that favour. While not doing anything progressive house acts of the day hadn't already covered, it suitably grooves along while letting all the familiar elements play about as necessary. Plus, those beeps heard throughout are Morse Code for “I love you”, which is such a clever musical Easter Egg, I'm stunned we don't hear that gimmick more often.

But the reason folks from 'the underground' were interested in this single was the Jam & Spoon Remix. Aww, yeah, the original trance tastemakers, having a go at one of the most Enigma-tic tracks in Enigma's early career! This is gonna' be... uh, super chill, apparently. It's basically the same song, just stripped down, with a weird, soft, drippy rhythm. Gotta' give credit for subverting expectations, I guess.

Aquasky - Aftershock

Moving Shadow: 2000

Aquasky was among Moving Shadow's new breed of drum 'n' bass tastemakers taking the scene into bold new territories as the Millennium turned. I know this, because a lot of the PR blurbs surrounding Aquasky said so. More than that, they had no problem flitting beyond the strict borders junglists demanded of their artists. Breaks? Sure, they can do that too, and maybe even give a few bassline pointers to those emerging nu-skool doods. Trip hop? Ain't no th'ang, every ace producer having a chill side too. Nu-jazz? Oh, hey, let's not get carried away. Just because Kruder & Dorfmeister tapped a track for their DJ-Kicks doesn't mean you should go that far beyond your boundaries. Maybe try something safer, like jazzstep. (note: the tune on DJ-Kicks is jazzstep, but why ruin a joke with facts?)

A trio of cats (Brent Newitt, Kieron Bailey, Dave Wallace), Aquasky initially debuted with a handful of singles on Moving Shadow, as many d'n'b acts were wont to do. They must have generated quite the buzz, as Polydor swooped in and offered them a deal, the mini-album Orange Dust emerging. I assume that didn't turn out as the players involved hoped, for Aquasky was right back in the Moving Shadow fold shortly after, releasing a proper LP in the form of Bodyshock. That one did better, so good that a remix album was commissioned the following year. That's no small feat, remix albums few and far between within the d'n'b scene to that point. Goldie's Timeless never got one. Roni Size's New Forms never got one. Perhaps a couple stray examples exist throughout the '90s, but fact remains Aftershock is a rare beast for its time. Or a hastily cobbled cash-grab quick to capitalize on all the hype Bodyshock had generated – would explain the totally borked track list on the CD.

No, seriously, how does one completely screw up a track list like this? Nothing is sequenced as laid out on the back of the booklet, and given that the compilation itself actually flows remarkably well for a remix album, I'm assuming what I hear is the intended order. Corduroy's rub on Battlestar is a fine funky, bass-heavy opener, while Sketch's go with Sonix feeds your reptile brain with some savage bass throbs and shuffly 2-step rhythms. At track five, we take a break from the breaks 'n' bass business for Mr. Scruff lending his funky jazz touch to Man Made Symphony, but for the longest time, I was told this was Stalker (Timecode Remix). Given the players involved, that don't make a lick of sense.

I suspected something was up when the obviously London Elektricity rub of Rebirth was titled Zero Tollerance (Aquasky Remix), and the track titled Rebirth (London Elektrcity Remix) sounded nothing like a London Elektricity remix. It wasn't until The Lord That Knows All graced my existence that I was enlightened upon Moving Shadows' erroneous handling of Aftershock. I wonder if that's why Aquasky left the label again, after this?

Supercar - Highvision

Ki/oon: 2002

(a Patreon Request from Philoi)

Not shockingly, most reviews I write are filled with regurgitated factoids from other sources. Having gorged myself in certain scenes, however, I've some insight into artists, genres, and trends that may not be readily available elsewhere – I feel confident when I wax the bull about Ambient Album #314,219,110, it's with some knowledge on the matter. Even stuff I'm not so boned up on, like Japanese indie rock and pop, I can usually find some additional info, giving me a stronger foundation to work from – the wiki on Wednesday Campanella was most helpful. This Supercar though, I'm just not finding much from English sources, save one Hell of a loving 'review' for this particular album on Sputnik Music.

Holy cow, but does user davidwave4 ever get into it more than I could possibly hope to, settling for nothing less than calling Highvision Supercar's Kid A. That's... quite a comparison to make there, mang', one I've no idea is apt or not. Like, there's nothing on this album that sounds like Kid A - certainly no ambient drone pieces like Treefingers - but he's not making a one-to-one music relation. Rather, he's comparing Supercar's discographical narrative to Radiohead's, with Futurama being their OK Computer, thus Highvision their Kid A. More succinctly, Futurama was the schizophrenic embracing of technology, while Highvision is the uncertain merging, accepting that change has come, and we must make do with that reality no matter how unsettling it makes us feel. Sure, guy, you go with that. I never dove deep into Radiohead's music, so have to take other people's word that such proclamations of “this is [artist]'s Kid A” as legit. By the by, when did Kid A supplant Sgt. Pepper's that way?

Right, I should get into Highvision on my own terms, which means the best I can provide is a 'dumb listen'. No deep analysis of lyrics (I can't understand them most of the time, just like Radiohead's Thom Yorke!) or genre dissertation – just simple “d'is music do this, it make me feel like d'is!” interpretations. And whoa, that's quite the distorted techno kick opening things up in Starline. There's still a regular drum kit in play too, just with an added 909 crunchy-thunk. Then there's shoegazey guitars, dream pop singing, and it feels as though I'm being lulled into a hazy headspace. That's definitely a change of tone compared to the upbeat dance number of Futurama's Changes.

And that vibe is mostly maintained throughout Highvision, a remarkable feat considering the disparate styles of music among these ten tunes. Songs flit between electro-pop ditties (Warning Bell, Strobolights, I), shoegaze rock-outs (Storywriter, Otogi Nation), dreamy dance jangles (Yumegiwawa Last Boy), and whatever orchestra electro-glitch thing Nijiiro Darkness is. Heck, there's even a thematic return with closer Silent Yaritori, that crunchy 909 kick reappearing. And best of all, Highvision leaves me feeling elated and high in spirit, which is a better feeling than the dourness of Kid A.

Vector Lovers - Afterglow

Soma Quality Recordings: 2007

I sure wasn't expecting this. My lone exposure to Vector Lovers around this point was the Late Shift / Babette EP, two tracks clearly with tech-house DJs in mind, and which I assumed his most recent album, Afterglow, mostly focused on. Never mind neither track appeared on the album, and that they were released on a label that has nothing to do with Mr. Wheeler's usual outlet. It's just standard practice that, within a window of a couple years, the music on EPs will sound like the music on LPs. And while those were fine for what they are, they didn't urge me to check out Afterglow, presumptuous as I was in thinking it'd be a record full of the stuff. I mean, geez, there wasn't any of the electro-anime aesthetic that made me love his self-titled debut.

I was half-right. Afterglow is definitely a much different beast compared to Vector Lovers and Capsule For One. Rather than dealing with feelings of loneliness in a hyper-technological age though, this album shoots far further into the future, in the aftermath of a nuclear wasteland. There's still that characteristic Martin Wheeler melancholy lurking in the melodies, but they're far more sparse and isolated, a sadder, darker tone permeating the atmosphere as a barely surviving civilization comes to grips with just how fucked up shit has turned.

Okay, Afterglow may not specifically be about that. I mean, that ominous mushrooming glow in the background of the cover art could be the sun setting over a hilltop. On the other hand, the opening track is called Half-Life, which mostly features Geiger Counter pops, despondent strings, and the sounds of something scuffling through abandoned radio frequencies. I'm pretty sure the Fallout games start like that.

Following Half-Life, we get tracks with titles like Far Side Of The Tracks, Rusting Cars And Wild Flowers, Piano Dust, and Dusk Panorama, all painting a rather bleak and desolate vista from which this music dwells. And things don't lighten within the the tunes themselves, a fair bit of empty space and twitchy experimentation going on throughout. Even the tracks with those vintage twee Vector Lovers melodies can't escape the ominous overtones. Example: an inky, oozing bassline accompanying the chipper, sliding leads in A Field. Of what few 'upbeat' tunes Martin provides, even they can't escape the omnipresent gloom. Crash Premonition features what sounds like klaxon bells echoing from the distance before settling into a groovy tech-house number, complete with lyrics about the freedom of the open road, long lost in this wasteland. No funky dancing robots in this place.

Overall, Afterglow reminds me of Boards Of Canada's Tomorrow's Harvest, similar ideas and themes explored, though through Wheeler's electro-glitch lens. And despite a slight glimmer of hope emerging in the titular closer (nature reclaiming its lost lands), this is one depressing album. It's a good kind of depression, mind you, the sort you savour for rainy days, but man, do I need to mentally prep for it before going in.

Various - Aeon Nemesis

Werkstatt Recordings: 2014

Aww yeah, this is exactly what's lured me into synthwave, isn't it? Retro futurism, cosmic setting, video game cockpit, vector grids galore. And ooh, can't forget that potential narrative brewing. What is the Aeon Nemesis? An inter-dimensional being we must fight? The concept of defeating time itself? Just a couple of cool sounding words slapped together for marketing purposes? So many conceptual possibilities, these synthwave albums, and what better way to truly explore those limitless ideas than rounding up a bunch of producers with similar muses for a big ol' label showcase? That'll get folks digging deeper into the back-catalogue, no doubt.

If you're wondering how I ended up with so many Werkstatt Recordings items, it's because of compilations like this. Get the main feature, plus a bulk deal on CDs with tie-in artists. From this, I nabbed Beatbox Machinery (of course), Toxik Synther, Advanced UFO Phantom, plus a nifty t-shirt with Arcade Metropolis' logo across. Funny thing, regarding that t-shirt. When I wear it to work, a co-worker inquiries whether it's in association with the Arcade Metropolis once located in downtown Vancouver (before the dark times; before the gentrification). Naturally not, but does that ever bring back memories, wandering the once seedier side of the city's urban core, where all manner of strange, darkened places warned that only surly teenagers could enter. To say nothing of the striking mannequins my father would suddenly flush with embarrassment should we venture past on the way to a second-hand music shop. Man, downtown Vancouver was a different beast back when. Not quite Times Square pre-Rudy or anything, but there's a reason many pick-up shots for a Manhattan-based movie would be done in Vancouver.

Anyhow, I had a'lotta anticipation going into this one, as cool cover art is wont to do upon my psyche. You'd think after so many years led astray by dodgy psy trance CDs with cool cover art that I'd learn it, too, can happen in other scenes, especially ones as filled with amateur producers as synthwave. It's not that the music within Aeon Nemesis is piss-poor or anything, but it doesn't lift itself to the standards I've gone and set for myself either. Yes, I've actually developed 'standards' for synthwave – there's only so much time I can give to the endless options this genre now has, and I don't need to waste it on middle-of-the-road material.

A few tracks do offer some nifty ideas, like Beta Grid's hip-hop electro-acid Omni-Halo Matrix, Liege Viper's peppy outrun outing of Rising Star, and Arcade Metropolis' epic excursion of Take Hold Of The Flame - at six-minutes of runtime, it easily outpaces everything else on this compilation. Unfortunately, little else stands out from the synthwave glut, and nothing really highlights or builds upon whatever theme Aeon Nemesis was going for. It's just another collection of synthwave tunes, though did come with some cool extra swag if you jumped on it first run. Werkstatt's swag game is always on point.

Lars Leonhard - Adrift In Time

self release: 2018

What does one do when an artist you like has so many albums available as a digital-only option, but you've developed a silly stance of only buying physical items? The logical course of action is to forego such a backwards-ass position, and do the right and proper thing of moving forward with the times, accepting that digital-only music is a viable and totally acceptable means of procuring tunes these days. However, I'm not so logical. In my mind, if I maintain long, unyielding hope that one day, Lars Leonhard would find a willing label to make hard-copy versions of all those stockpiled Bandcamp albums, there's no need to spring for a digital version. And lo', my illogical hope doth bore fruit, Mr. Leonhard's music finally finding its way to discs of aluminum, care of... Mr. Leonhard himself? Ah, well, if you want something done, sometimes you gotta' do it yourself, right?

That being said, it seemed releasing music on BineMusic gave his LPs a sense of focus. Whether it was retelling tales of aborted airline flights or odes to those traversing the lonely rail cars late at night, there were clear stories on those works. His stuff since, however, appears broader in scope, titles like Erstwhile, Deep Venture and Interstellar suggesting music with less narrative focus, and rather capturing certain moods and atmosphere. Such remains the case with Adrift In Time, one of three albums Lars released this past year (holy cow!). Like, what, exactly, is adrift in time? Lars' muse? The listener as they listen? The sounds as they play out, streaming on an ever-lasting electromagnetic wavelength to the furthest reaches of the cosmos? No, wait, that's probably Interstellar's game. And it's not like the Bandcamp copy gives a clear idea either, essentially stating that this is Leonhard music for its own sake. Okay, that's good enough for me.

Playful nitpicking aside, Adrift In Time pretty much is exactly the sort of music I've come to expect from Lars, and welcome indeed. Downtempo music that never meanders. Dub techno sounds that remember to work in a little melody. Deep layers of pads and reverb that let you get lost in cavernous headphone space. A few gentle nudges into the cinematic soundscapes, though only the most sweeping shots of nature's splendour will suffice. Actually, check that. Given the track titles have something of an earthy, geomorphology bent to them (Onyx, Sparks, Grounded, Highlands, Saphir), I imagine mostly static images of landforms, played out as time-lapse movies, the achingly gradual shifting of masses over the ages. Seems right up dub techno's general aesthetic, such visuals.

Mostly, Adrift In Time keeps things on the downbeat, with only a couple tracks upping the tempo towards anything club friendly (Onyx, Sparks). Not that Lars is generally a DJ friendly producer, but it has been part of his repertoire over the years. Not on this outing though, these tunes intended for chilling back with superior sound-systems at your disposal.

I:Cube - Adore

Versatile Records: 1999

An album I've long looked forward to talking about, but also kinda' feared doing so. For some, I:Cube's sophomore effort is among the glistening jewels of criminally overlooked French house gems, a record that should have been at the tips of everyone's tongue come the new millennium, and cemented Nicolas Chaix among the upper elite of clubland's tastemakers. I suppose I rank myself among those “some”, Adore blowing my mind when I stumbled upon it. I knew of him, tracks like Le Dub and the titular cut appearing on mixes and compilations in my collection, but I had no idea he was this versatile. Maybe I should have, what with his appearing on Versatile Records.

Yet despite getting playlisted by a wide range of DJs over the years, I:Cube never broke through to the rarefied French air acts like Daft Punk and AIR occupy. Mr. Chaix' project remained an underground darling, one that heady wax spinners expose to an unsuspecting audience at those 'perfect moments' in a set. Then someone in that audience will run up to the DJ, eyes alight with wonderment, inquiring, “Dude! What was that song? It was so funky and deep!” And the DJ will smile with a slight nod, knowing his job was done, and he could now comfortably return to his home planet. “Gastro Funk,” he replies. “Gastro Funk by I:Cube.” Then the punter will furiously tap through his smartphone options, voraciously searching online for that one jam he heard that night, saving it for a future playlist. It's a tale as old as time.

Adore has all that I've ever wanted in a French-pop, electro-dub, deep house record. The titular opener hits you with sweeping strings and groovy-chill Latin rhythms, La La La hits you with the swingin' funk and French soul, Le Dub and Tropiq go deeper down the dub lane, and Cash Conv. gets a little techy with I:Cube's deep house stylee. A bunch of nonsense happens for a few tracks, then we're right back into the deep house bliss of Deep Republic, Pooh Pah (it makes sense when you hear the 'lyrics'), and ultra-deep dub techno of Dans la Piece Vide (DeepChord approved, I'm sure).

Eh, that skipped over bit? It's nothing. No, it's nothing! Okay, it's something. What holds Adore back from being a nigh-perfect record, is what. Yeah, my opinion and all, but seriously, the noisy, abrasive stabs at loud club fodder always sound out of place compared to the proper-deep vibes the rest of Adore cultivates. Caca Carnival at least has a little pep to it when it's not indulging those farty noises, and Lak does bring things back to the deep electro, though its drifting out of key leaves a sour taste on my ears. These tracks don't break the album, but sadly blemish it enough such that I honestly don't return to Adore as often as I'd like. Ah well, at least it lets me savour the rest all that much more when I do return.

Pet Shop Boys - Actually

Parlaphone: 1987

Is this the Pet Shop Boys album you're really supposed to have, even if you're not a Pet Shop Boys fan? It's certainly among their most popular, their highest charting effort of the '80s, only 1993's Very doing better. Huh, considering most things associated with the '80s was in decline by then, I wonder how Very did so well? Investigations for another time, but as I've known more songs off Actually (and Please) than Very, that does seem strange indeed. No, remixes on the crummy Disco 2 don't count as knowing songs off Very.

This one though, this album cemented Pet Shop Boys as bona-fide synth-pop stars, proving their first album was no fluke of catchy tunes and clever lyrics. It undoubtedly helped they had good ol' Thatcherism to play off of, subtly digging at the conservative consumerism that marked '80s Britain. To culturally thick individuals (y'know, Patrick Bateman sorts), a song like Shopping could easily come off as a joyful ode to decadent buying for things we don't really need. In the hands of Pet Shop Boys though, there's sly cynicism lurking behind those ear-wormy hooks and digital enhanced vocals. It wouldn't take much to strip the soul a little further for Shopping to sound like a track off Kraftwerk's Computer World.

Of course, the tune everyone remembers from Actually is It's A Sin, possibly one of the biggest club anthems Pet Shop Boys ever produced. Like, it already goes full-tilt with the bombastic string arrangements, soaring synths, and galloping hi-nrg rhythms, but those lyrics, mang! Even taking them at face value, it's a wonderful ode to self-doubt and reflection against the institutions of old, something anyone with a little rebelliousness in their nature can relate to. And while I'm sure Neil Tennant didn't write It's A Sin specifically with gay culture in mind, the fact the lyrics are rather autobiographical does give it an extra layer of meaning and understanding for those in that community. Just imagine the cathartic jubilation of dancing to this in a gay club back when. Heck, I'm sure it's still just as effective in this day and age.

There are plenty other good tunes on Actually, though only opener One More Chance hits that same high as It's A Sin (oh hi, Bobby O). What Have I Done To Deserve This? was a big deal due to giving Dusty Springfield some extra shine on her career, though I find that one treading a tad too close to Stock, Aitken & Waterman territory (those guys were everywhere at that point though). Hit Music joins Shopping in cutting on pop culture, Rent and I Want To Wake Up get into those doubting, conflicting urban lifestyles, while Heart and King's Cross tackle more traditional relationship matters. There's also a big, orchestral ballad in It Couldn't Happen Here, which sounds odd surrounded by all the synth-pop tunes. If you got Ennio Morricone on hand for a song, however, you don't waste that chance, nosiree!

ACE TRACKS: November 2018

As I accumulate more and more music, certain trends start appearing, like preferred genres or running themes among cover art (so many pictures of Saturn). One thing I hadn't counted, however, was having far more items of certain years compared to others. 1995 in particular has remained top dog for as long as I've noticed this trend, although the years 2015 and 2007 are often nipping at its heels. By comparison, 2005 has been abysmal for my CD collection, the only competitors being its neighbouring years of 2004 and 2006. That is, if you don't include anything prior to 1993, the year I started buying my own music, and when electronic music really started taking off in my far flung corner of the world. Maybe if I go on a binge of hair metal or protest folk, my stacks of older decades will start looking more buff, but that'd dilute the electronic purity I've cultivated all these years.

Anyhow, I've mentioned this curiosity many times before, and I just assumed it being a case of the mid-'90s being awesome for electronic music, the mid-'00s being shite for electronic music, and the mid-'10s being resurgently awesome for electronic music. In simpler language, there was more dope music in 1995 than any other time, or at least that which I've consistently gone back to. I've posited this theory on the TranceAddict forums, and it seems I'm not alone in noticing this, some there realizing their Discoggian 'Want List' is rather slight for 2005 and its compatriots. Hell, the only reason I figure 2007 is so beefy in my archives is due to the all the reviews I was writing for TranceCritic around that time.

Does anyone else notice this within their own music collections, certain years being heavy favorites over others? Like, I assume this is only something folks with 500+ items spanning a few decades would at all, but I am curious nonetheless. Food for thought while y'all check out the ACE TRACKS for this past November.


Full track list here.


MISSING ALBUMS:
Supercar - Futurama
Alien Project - Activation Portal

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 0%
Percentage Of Rock: 8%
Most “WTF?” Track: Guess the Ab Fab single, for its mere existence.

Wow, this one turned out remarkably well! It's almost a proper playlist, and not just some arbitrary arrangement of select tunes I was listening to these past thirty days. I didn't even notice how similar Rapoon's The Same River Once and Sven Vath's Ritual Of Life were until being alphabetically paired together like that. And there's quite a few sections like that here. While I mostly make these things for my own use, I wouldn't hesitate to recommend this one to anyone who's curious about a sampling of the sort of music I generally cover here. Yes, even the music I was requested to review!