TRICKY's MAXINQUAYE in SPIN'S BEST ALBUMS OF THE NINETIES
Spin, 1999
by Simon Reynolds
TRICKY, Maxinquaye (Island, 1995)
Although all but one of its tracks were recorded in London, Maxinquaye has everything to do with Tricky's home town Bristol, the west of England port whose
bohemian milieu of Brit B-boys and post-punk radicals spawned Massive Attack,
Portishead, and the Reprazent clan. "In Bristol, all the different ghettos were mixing in the early Eighties," says Mark Stewart, ex-frontman of legendary avant-funk outfit The Pop Group. "We'd go to reggae 'blues' parties, industrial punk events, and hip hop jams at this crucial club called The Dugout."
Through his friendship with The Wild Bunch (the DJ collective that evolved into
Massive Attack) Stewart became a mentor to Tricky. It was Stewart who first pushed
Tricky onstage and who encouraged him to start a career outside Massive. "He's my
chaos," says Tricky. "When people say I'm weird, I say 'you've got to hang around Mark'. He lives out of a suitcase which contains, like, a jar of mayonnaise, cassettes, and articles clipped out of magazines. He lived with me for two months and got me chucked out of my flat!" It was while they were rooming together that Stewart persuaded Tricky to "blag" money off Massive Attack's management for solo recording. "His idea was to spend half of it on drink!", laughs Tricky. The remaining 300 pounds paid for studio time for "Aftermath", a downtempo drift of "hip hop blues" that eventually became Tricky's debut single.
With Stewart operating as "executive producer" (as Tricky puts it), "Aftermath" came together haphazardly. Stewart remembers the session as "just me and Tricks
messing about on an 8 track," looping beats and weaving in samples that Tricky plucked from "some guy's pile of records". Outside his house, Tricky met Martina Topley-Bird--a schoolgirl in uniform, waiting for a bus--and on impulse invited her to sing. "I laid down a guide vocal for her, but we decided to keep my voice in, 'cos it sounded haunting." This slightly out-of-synch pairing of Martina's dulcet croon and Tricky's bleary rapping became the model for much of Maxinquaye. There was a fourth collaborator on "Aftermath",claims Tricky--he believes the post-apocalyptic scenario lyrics were channeled from his mother, who died when he was four. "I found out later that she used to write words, poetry, but never showed them to anybody."
Tricky offered "Aftermath" to Massive, who were still pulling together their 1991
debut Blue Lines. But, chuckles Tricky, the band's 3D "told me 'it's shit, you're never going to make it as a producer". "Aftermath" stayed on cassette for three years,unreleased; Tricky fell out of touch with Topley-Bird. After Blue Lines's release, Tricky was in limbo, idling on a retainer wage from Massive. "All I did was smoke weed, drink in bars, and go to clubs from Wednesday to Sunday." He sank into a slough of despond, complete with marijuana-induced paranoid hallucinations of demons in his living room.
This dark period inspired Tricky's next recording, "Ponderosa" and its lyrics about
an alcohol-and-spliff induced descent through "different levels of the Devil's company". Underpinned by a clanking, lurching percussion influenced by Indian bhangra,"Ponderosa" was one of several tracks demoed in London with engineering wizard Howard Bernstein (a/k/a Howie B), courtesy of Island Records. "Tricky was living with me and my girlfriend Harriet for a while," remembers Bernstein. "Kippers for breakfast, and Tricky kipping on a couch in the front room." Hospitable Howie believed he was all set to be a partner in the album project, should Island decide to sign Tricky. But management conflicts resulted in a "a legal nightmare" and left almost an album's worth of tunes stranded on the shelf. Although "Ponderosa" did clinch the Island deal, Bernstein was not included and "walked away with a sour taste in my mouth."
Tricky, meanwhile, bought a home studio and started work on the album in a grim
area of London called Harlesden, where he and Topley-Bird were ensconced as house
mates, although they barely knew each other. Aggravating his desolate surroundings and the alienation caused by moving from his hometown Bristol to a city where he had no friends, Tricky was listening to a relentlessly glum soundtrack-- The Geto Boys, Billie Holliday, and The Specials. The "concrete bleak sound" of Specials classics such as "Ghost Town" is just one thread in the Maxinquaye tapestry. Alongside the obvious hip hop ancestry (Eric B & Rakim's cinematic rap noir; Public Enemy--Tricky hailed Chuck D as "my Shakespeare"), the album is steeped in the influence of English art-rock weirdness ---Bowie, Numan, Japan, Peter Gabriel, and Kate Bush ("I think she's in the same league as John Lennon," Tricky gushes). Even more unlikely, Tricky claims that the gorgeous aural malaise of "Abbaon Fat Tracks" got its curious title because "it reminded me of Abba--but fucked up, and with phat beats."
An enigmatic tribute to his mother Maxine Quaye, the album's title was originally
intended as Tricky and Martina's collective bandname until the rapper capitulated to
Island's pressure and agreed to record under his nom de mic'. Released in 1995 to massive acclaim, Maxinquaye works simultaneously as an autobiographical account of one man's struggles and as a wider allegory. Evoking the orphanned drift, sociocultural deadlock, and pre-millenial tension of the Nineties just as Sly Stone's There's A Riot Goin' On had expressed the caged rage and curdled idealism of the early Seventies, Maxinquaye seemed to be partly about the inability of Tricky's generation to imagine utopia, let alone build it.
"We're all fucking lost!", Tricky declared. "I can't see how things are gonna get better. I think we have to destroy everything and start again. But I can't pretend I've got the answers. Bob Marley, he could write songs about freedom and love. I'm just telling the truth that I'm confused, I'm paranoid, I'm scared, I'm vicious."
Yet for all its despondency and dread, Maxinquaye is ultimately a redemptive experience.
Monday, November 2, 2009
Thursday, October 29, 2009
AFX
Analord 01--11
(Rephlex)
Village Voice, August 30th 2005
By Simon Reynolds
Since the debacle that was 2001’s over-programmed Drukqs, there’s been zero transmissions from Planet Aphex. So when Richard D. James reemerged at the start of the year with the launch of an extended series of EPs, the response from his still sizeable cult mingled joy, skepticism, and a heap of curiosity. Could James--once techno’s greatest melodist-- possibly have anything more to give?
The analog-only concept underpinning Analord seemed like a tacit admission that, like so many of his peers, during the late Nineties James had gotten lost in the mire of options offered by state-of-art technology. Riddled with detail and addled by effects, Drukqs’ delirium tremens of twitchy-glitchy beats and fruitless FruityLoops-ery suggested it was time for a drastic rethink. In the Dogme-like spirit of Holger Czukay’s maxim “restriction is the mother of invention,” on Analord James shuns digital signal processing, plug-ins and “virtual studio technology” programs in favor of synths, sequencers, and house music’s favorite tools, the Roland 909 drum machine and the Roland 303 bassline generator (source of the wibbly-bibbly acid-sound). The series stages a strategic retreat to the sort of set-up James used at the very start of his career some fifteen years ago.
Consistent with the analog concept, these EPs are vinyl-only releases, high quality pressings from whose deep grooves emanate sounds as thick and glossy as the platters themselves. Vinyl fiends always bang on about “warmth”, but that’s not exactly what you hear on Analord, given that the music is electronic and therefore innately glacial. But even before you appraise the tracks as compositions, your ears are struck by the rich presence of the sound. Vinyl-fetishism is also a crucial aspect of the EPs visual appeal: transparent sleeves invite your eyes to feast on the inky blackness.
Analord 11 is where the series has paused (for breath, or permanently, it’s not clear), which makes now a good moment to survey the length and breadth of what by any standard constitutes a formidable amount of sound (three 74 minute CD-R’s worth) to have issued in just six months. Alongside reverting to the restricted means available to him as a youth, it seems like James has also tried to recover the creative mindset. Circa ‘95, jungle threw the entire “electronic listening music” community off-balance, making producers focus their creativity on rhythmic complexity rather than haunting melody (the genre’s true forte). Analord reverses that priority. The beats, while deftly programmed, assume a largely subservient role; mood and melodiousness return to the fore. These tracks invoke a time when the concept of “machine soul” was fresh and inspirational: the era of classic releases by Derrick May, Fingers Inc, LFO, Carl Craig, The Black Dog, et al, long before chopped-up breakbeats impinged on the “purity” of electronic music.
The crucial question, though, is whether any Analord tracks approach the heights of James’ own classic phase (1991’s “Analogue Bubblebath” to 1995’s “Alberto Balsalm”, approximately). The answer: not quite, but close enough. If the weaker material recalls the output of James’ early Nineties second-division pseudonyms, the better pieces--the lustrous chitter of “Boxingday” (A3), the cyborg-toad jabber of “Analoggins” (A6), the writhy glisten of “”Backdoor. Netshadow” (A9)--display his unique flair for clustered dissonances, ghostly harmonic wisps, and eerie in-between emotions. (Consumer Guidance: your best buys are 2, 3, 10, and 11). The pieces that linger in your memory possess a somber, sorrowful quality: the pensive, frowning chords of “Pissed Up In Sel” (A2), the weepy-eyed melody-foam of
“Pwsteal.ldpinch.D” (A8), the dank mazes of glum that take up side two of Analord 11.
Instrumentally, the most Valued Player here isn’t the near-omnipresent 303 but whatever reverb unit James uses to drape his sounds in his signature shroud of muzzy melancholy. You start to wonder: could it be that The Aphex Twin is, like, depressed? Has he been dumped (one mournful ditty is titled “Where’s Your Girlfriend?”)? Or is this simply the blues of the innovator who ran out of future, and who’s gone back in the hope of finding a better way forward?
Analord 01--11
(Rephlex)
Village Voice, August 30th 2005
By Simon Reynolds
Since the debacle that was 2001’s over-programmed Drukqs, there’s been zero transmissions from Planet Aphex. So when Richard D. James reemerged at the start of the year with the launch of an extended series of EPs, the response from his still sizeable cult mingled joy, skepticism, and a heap of curiosity. Could James--once techno’s greatest melodist-- possibly have anything more to give?
The analog-only concept underpinning Analord seemed like a tacit admission that, like so many of his peers, during the late Nineties James had gotten lost in the mire of options offered by state-of-art technology. Riddled with detail and addled by effects, Drukqs’ delirium tremens of twitchy-glitchy beats and fruitless FruityLoops-ery suggested it was time for a drastic rethink. In the Dogme-like spirit of Holger Czukay’s maxim “restriction is the mother of invention,” on Analord James shuns digital signal processing, plug-ins and “virtual studio technology” programs in favor of synths, sequencers, and house music’s favorite tools, the Roland 909 drum machine and the Roland 303 bassline generator (source of the wibbly-bibbly acid-sound). The series stages a strategic retreat to the sort of set-up James used at the very start of his career some fifteen years ago.
Consistent with the analog concept, these EPs are vinyl-only releases, high quality pressings from whose deep grooves emanate sounds as thick and glossy as the platters themselves. Vinyl fiends always bang on about “warmth”, but that’s not exactly what you hear on Analord, given that the music is electronic and therefore innately glacial. But even before you appraise the tracks as compositions, your ears are struck by the rich presence of the sound. Vinyl-fetishism is also a crucial aspect of the EPs visual appeal: transparent sleeves invite your eyes to feast on the inky blackness.
Analord 11 is where the series has paused (for breath, or permanently, it’s not clear), which makes now a good moment to survey the length and breadth of what by any standard constitutes a formidable amount of sound (three 74 minute CD-R’s worth) to have issued in just six months. Alongside reverting to the restricted means available to him as a youth, it seems like James has also tried to recover the creative mindset. Circa ‘95, jungle threw the entire “electronic listening music” community off-balance, making producers focus their creativity on rhythmic complexity rather than haunting melody (the genre’s true forte). Analord reverses that priority. The beats, while deftly programmed, assume a largely subservient role; mood and melodiousness return to the fore. These tracks invoke a time when the concept of “machine soul” was fresh and inspirational: the era of classic releases by Derrick May, Fingers Inc, LFO, Carl Craig, The Black Dog, et al, long before chopped-up breakbeats impinged on the “purity” of electronic music.
The crucial question, though, is whether any Analord tracks approach the heights of James’ own classic phase (1991’s “Analogue Bubblebath” to 1995’s “Alberto Balsalm”, approximately). The answer: not quite, but close enough. If the weaker material recalls the output of James’ early Nineties second-division pseudonyms, the better pieces--the lustrous chitter of “Boxingday” (A3), the cyborg-toad jabber of “Analoggins” (A6), the writhy glisten of “”Backdoor. Netshadow” (A9)--display his unique flair for clustered dissonances, ghostly harmonic wisps, and eerie in-between emotions. (Consumer Guidance: your best buys are 2, 3, 10, and 11). The pieces that linger in your memory possess a somber, sorrowful quality: the pensive, frowning chords of “Pissed Up In Sel” (A2), the weepy-eyed melody-foam of
“Pwsteal.ldpinch.D” (A8), the dank mazes of glum that take up side two of Analord 11.
Instrumentally, the most Valued Player here isn’t the near-omnipresent 303 but whatever reverb unit James uses to drape his sounds in his signature shroud of muzzy melancholy. You start to wonder: could it be that The Aphex Twin is, like, depressed? Has he been dumped (one mournful ditty is titled “Where’s Your Girlfriend?”)? Or is this simply the blues of the innovator who ran out of future, and who’s gone back in the hope of finding a better way forward?
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
jungle 12 inch reviews/ "Stone Free" column
Melody Maker, late 1994
by Simon Reynolds
METALHEADS--"Inner City Life"/"Timeless" (fffr/London)
Released as a taster 12 inch, "Inner City Life" could become jungle's "Back To Life" or "Unfinished Sympathy", thanks to the crossover appeal of Diane Charlemagne's gorgeous jazzy vocals and Goldie's angelic/demonic strings. But it's "Timeless", the 22 minute epic from which "Inner" is excerpted, that will really blow your mind, with its cobra-coiling swarm of breakbeats and maze-like/mirage-like production. A concept track about "inner city pressure", "Timeless" passes through different 'movements' (the most breathtaking being "Jah"'--cyber-juju, King Sunny Ade meets Derrick May). But "Timeless" really works as a whole, taking you on a hair-raising terror-ride through the city's heart of darkness. Not just a great 'dance record' but one of this decade's most astonishing pieces of popular art.
DA INTALEX---"What Ya Gonna Do" (Flex)
"What Ya Gonna Do" takes ambient jungle's paradoxes--savage sentimentality, punishing poignancy--to the extreme. It starts as a haze of synth-ripples and rapturous moans, then SUPERNOVAS with devastating bass-blasts and a skin-scalding soul-diva ultimatum: "whatcha gonna do?!". Da Intalex (a.k.a. L. Double) is a rising star.
DILLINJA---"Deep Love (Remix)" (Logic Productions), "Stomper's Delight/Southside" (Logic Productions)
With its softly glowing electric piano and flickers of lachrymose wah-wah guitar, 'Deep Love' exudes an exquisitely serene melancholy. Blue and beguiling, this is orchestral jungle at its finest. "Stompers" and "Southside" offer more Dillinja magic, unfurling cyber-jazz electronics over cranked-to-the-max clockwork drum & bass.
D'CRUZE--"Lonely/Chronic Breaks" (Suburban Base)
A brilliantly tentative intro--stabs of plangent strings, lump-in-throat lamentations--then "Lonely" rolls out an irresistible sashay of intricate snares and hi-hats. "Chronic Breaks" is gorgeously desolate, with eerie vocal samples like The Clangers yodelling the Appalachian blues.
E-Z ROLLERS--"Remixes" (Moving Shadow)
Droppin' Science's revamp of the sublime "Rolled Into One" is cool, but you can't really improve on perfection. So it's Foul Play's dramatic reconstruction of "Believe" that's killer, cutting between minimal (ultra-crisp drum tattoo and chiming bass) and maximal (rhapsodic wafts of strings 'n' synths) to superb effect.
RONI SIZE & KRUST/JMJ & RICHIE---"2 on 1, Issue 7" (Moving Shadow)
JMJ & Richie's "Deep Bass 9" is a pleasant enough confection of vocoderized ragga, blissed diva and two-step shuffle. But it's Size & Krust's "Witchcraft"--a dreamswirl of s(h)immering percussion, spangly wah-wah and hall-of-mirrors vocals-- that really substantiates the experimental intentions of the '2 On 1' series.
DJ PESHAY--"Psychosis/Represent" (Metalheads)
Both tracks have elegant arrangements featuring piano-tinkles and wah-wah tingles, but jungle's new smooth-side/soft-core direction worries me--this is a tad too tasteful for my taste. Enough soul-diva ululations already!
Melody Maker, late 1994
by Simon Reynolds
METALHEADS--"Inner City Life"/"Timeless" (fffr/London)
Released as a taster 12 inch, "Inner City Life" could become jungle's "Back To Life" or "Unfinished Sympathy", thanks to the crossover appeal of Diane Charlemagne's gorgeous jazzy vocals and Goldie's angelic/demonic strings. But it's "Timeless", the 22 minute epic from which "Inner" is excerpted, that will really blow your mind, with its cobra-coiling swarm of breakbeats and maze-like/mirage-like production. A concept track about "inner city pressure", "Timeless" passes through different 'movements' (the most breathtaking being "Jah"'--cyber-juju, King Sunny Ade meets Derrick May). But "Timeless" really works as a whole, taking you on a hair-raising terror-ride through the city's heart of darkness. Not just a great 'dance record' but one of this decade's most astonishing pieces of popular art.
DA INTALEX---"What Ya Gonna Do" (Flex)
"What Ya Gonna Do" takes ambient jungle's paradoxes--savage sentimentality, punishing poignancy--to the extreme. It starts as a haze of synth-ripples and rapturous moans, then SUPERNOVAS with devastating bass-blasts and a skin-scalding soul-diva ultimatum: "whatcha gonna do?!". Da Intalex (a.k.a. L. Double) is a rising star.
DILLINJA---"Deep Love (Remix)" (Logic Productions), "Stomper's Delight/Southside" (Logic Productions)
With its softly glowing electric piano and flickers of lachrymose wah-wah guitar, 'Deep Love' exudes an exquisitely serene melancholy. Blue and beguiling, this is orchestral jungle at its finest. "Stompers" and "Southside" offer more Dillinja magic, unfurling cyber-jazz electronics over cranked-to-the-max clockwork drum & bass.
D'CRUZE--"Lonely/Chronic Breaks" (Suburban Base)
A brilliantly tentative intro--stabs of plangent strings, lump-in-throat lamentations--then "Lonely" rolls out an irresistible sashay of intricate snares and hi-hats. "Chronic Breaks" is gorgeously desolate, with eerie vocal samples like The Clangers yodelling the Appalachian blues.
E-Z ROLLERS--"Remixes" (Moving Shadow)
Droppin' Science's revamp of the sublime "Rolled Into One" is cool, but you can't really improve on perfection. So it's Foul Play's dramatic reconstruction of "Believe" that's killer, cutting between minimal (ultra-crisp drum tattoo and chiming bass) and maximal (rhapsodic wafts of strings 'n' synths) to superb effect.
RONI SIZE & KRUST/JMJ & RICHIE---"2 on 1, Issue 7" (Moving Shadow)
JMJ & Richie's "Deep Bass 9" is a pleasant enough confection of vocoderized ragga, blissed diva and two-step shuffle. But it's Size & Krust's "Witchcraft"--a dreamswirl of s(h)immering percussion, spangly wah-wah and hall-of-mirrors vocals-- that really substantiates the experimental intentions of the '2 On 1' series.
DJ PESHAY--"Psychosis/Represent" (Metalheads)
Both tracks have elegant arrangements featuring piano-tinkles and wah-wah tingles, but jungle's new smooth-side/soft-core direction worries me--this is a tad too tasteful for my taste. Enough soul-diva ululations already!
jungle 12 inch reviews/ "Stone Free" column
Melody Maker, 1994
by Simon Reynolds
A GUY CALLED GERALD--- "Darker Than I Should/Gloc" (Juice Box),"Nazinji-Zaka/Hot Foot" (Juice Box)
Mr 'Voodoo Ray' is now at the forefront of 'intelligent hardcore'---hence these two 12 inches of densely textured ambient jungle. "Darker" and "Nazinji" offer ethno-pagan cyber-jazz that picks up where 808 State's 'State Ritual' left off; "Gloc" is so sensuously disorientating it could be from My Bloody Valentine's forthcoming jungle-influenced LP.
F.B.D. PROJECT---"Classified Listening" (Bangra Tunes)
F.B.D is intelligent hardcore whizzkid Neil Trix; "Classified' is a lush and limpid rainforest of polyrhythms, tremulous with detail.
DJ TANGO/HYPER ON EXPERIENCE---"Two On One, Issue 4" (Moving Shadow)
Tango's "Think Twice" is a dancefloor desolator, all demonic bass-surges and hideously clammy samples. Isolationist jungle? Sounds like a good idea to me.
BOOGIE TIMES TRIBE---"My Soul" (Suburban Base)
Go straight for the Roni Size & Krust remix, which laces the dark drum-&-bass groove with mysterious sound-vapours, heady strings and wafts of psychedelic eeriness.
NOODLES & WONDER---"Drum Soup" EP (Kickin')
Serene wind-chimes and gamelan-tinkling bells float over a turbo-charged battery of beats. Magical, despite a strange interlude of swingbeat mid-track.
RENEGADE featuring RAY KEITH---"Terrorist" (Moving Shadow)
Shlocky sentimental piano fades into a warrior-charge of radioactive bass and crisp drums. Then another B-line and another tier of drums.... Propulsive and compulsive.
DJ CRYSTL---"Meditation (Remix)/Warpdrive (Remix)" (Dee Jay)
Crystl's revamp of the monstrously foreboding "Warpdrive" plays up the poison-gas synth-drones but tampers with the avalanche effect of the breakbeat. The untouchable original can still be found on Breakdown's 'Drum & Bass' compilation.
THE K.G.B.--- "I Feel The Magic" (Juice Box)
More lush and languid enchantment from 'Executive Producer' A Guy Called Gerald's Juice Box label. Jazz-funk for the 21st Century.
LICK BACK ORGANISATION---"Ruff'n'Rugged/Manic Musik" (Suburban Base)
"Manic" starts with a sample of Grace Slick's "morning maniac music" drivel from Woodstock, then oscillates between jagged drum-&-bass and aromatic atmospherics.
SPLASH---"Hypnotizing" (Splash)
Ruff-rider breaks, gusts of ethereal girl-vox---a solid slice of ambient ardkore
Melody Maker, 1994
by Simon Reynolds
A GUY CALLED GERALD--- "Darker Than I Should/Gloc" (Juice Box),"Nazinji-Zaka/Hot Foot" (Juice Box)
Mr 'Voodoo Ray' is now at the forefront of 'intelligent hardcore'---hence these two 12 inches of densely textured ambient jungle. "Darker" and "Nazinji" offer ethno-pagan cyber-jazz that picks up where 808 State's 'State Ritual' left off; "Gloc" is so sensuously disorientating it could be from My Bloody Valentine's forthcoming jungle-influenced LP.
F.B.D. PROJECT---"Classified Listening" (Bangra Tunes)
F.B.D is intelligent hardcore whizzkid Neil Trix; "Classified' is a lush and limpid rainforest of polyrhythms, tremulous with detail.
DJ TANGO/HYPER ON EXPERIENCE---"Two On One, Issue 4" (Moving Shadow)
Tango's "Think Twice" is a dancefloor desolator, all demonic bass-surges and hideously clammy samples. Isolationist jungle? Sounds like a good idea to me.
BOOGIE TIMES TRIBE---"My Soul" (Suburban Base)
Go straight for the Roni Size & Krust remix, which laces the dark drum-&-bass groove with mysterious sound-vapours, heady strings and wafts of psychedelic eeriness.
NOODLES & WONDER---"Drum Soup" EP (Kickin')
Serene wind-chimes and gamelan-tinkling bells float over a turbo-charged battery of beats. Magical, despite a strange interlude of swingbeat mid-track.
RENEGADE featuring RAY KEITH---"Terrorist" (Moving Shadow)
Shlocky sentimental piano fades into a warrior-charge of radioactive bass and crisp drums. Then another B-line and another tier of drums.... Propulsive and compulsive.
DJ CRYSTL---"Meditation (Remix)/Warpdrive (Remix)" (Dee Jay)
Crystl's revamp of the monstrously foreboding "Warpdrive" plays up the poison-gas synth-drones but tampers with the avalanche effect of the breakbeat. The untouchable original can still be found on Breakdown's 'Drum & Bass' compilation.
THE K.G.B.--- "I Feel The Magic" (Juice Box)
More lush and languid enchantment from 'Executive Producer' A Guy Called Gerald's Juice Box label. Jazz-funk for the 21st Century.
LICK BACK ORGANISATION---"Ruff'n'Rugged/Manic Musik" (Suburban Base)
"Manic" starts with a sample of Grace Slick's "morning maniac music" drivel from Woodstock, then oscillates between jagged drum-&-bass and aromatic atmospherics.
SPLASH---"Hypnotizing" (Splash)
Ruff-rider breaks, gusts of ethereal girl-vox---a solid slice of ambient ardkore
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