Porcupine Tree's first album for K-Scope/Snapper starts out with a definite bang -- "Even Less," with some of the quartet's biggest, blasting rock epic music yet, yet also shot through with the gentler, acoustic side that makes Porcupine Tree so intimate and lovely. The net result easily calls Yes to mind, but Steven Wilson's not so high-pitched as Jon Anderson and Richard Barbieri completely avoids Rick Wakeman's extreme idiocies -- prog that knows when less is more. With that as a fine signal for the album as a whole, Stupid Dream takes it from there -- Wilson as a songwriter and singer both sounds recharged and more ambitious, while the group collectively pours it on. The loud passages feel truly sky-smashing, the calmer ones perfectly close, and the overall sense of build and drama -- "A Smart Kid" is a fine example spot-on. Strings from the East of England Orchestra and guest work on Wilson's sometime Bass Communion partner Theo Travis add even lusher atmospheres without swamping the tunes. As always, the group isn't afraid to experiment where others merely re-create check out the funky breaks Colin Edwin and Chris Maitland lay down on "Slave Called Shiver," not to mention Wilson's catchy piano figure and Barbieri's Hammond organ fills. Lyrically, Wilson comes up with some of his best work yet. "Piano Lessons" looks back on past musical learning and a doubtful teacher as a spur to trying harder, while "Pure Narcotic" offers up a romantic scenario and tip of the hat to Radiohead all at once: "You keep me hating/You keep me listening to The Bends." There's actually a musical hint or two of the Oxford quintet as well -- the acoustic guitar/drum intro to "This Is No Rehearsal" is a good example -- but leave it to Porcupine Tree to drop in some fully plugged in metal, as well
Starting with the snarling, slow machine-funk of "Dael," Tri Repetae fully confirms Autechre's evolution into electronic noise kings. If not as immediately experimental as the fractured work by the likes of Merzbow, Tri Repetae expertly harnesses the need for a beat to perfectly balance out the resolutely fierce, crunching samples and busy arrangements, turning from being inspired by Aphex Twin to being equally inspiring in itself. "Rotar" does a particularly fine job on this front, with high-pitched sounds against low, distorted bass blasts -- and this only forms part of the percussion arrangement. The basic combination of soft melody and harsh beats are here as well, coming fully to the fore and resulting in such fine songs as the synth-string/organ wheeze laden "Leterel" and the quirky, sweet "Gnit." Nearly every track has a particular edge or element to it, making it eminently listenable and distinct. "Stud," for all of its macho connotations, actually takes a gentler path than most of the album's tunes, with a flowing synth wash at the center of a stripped-down but sharp digital-drum punch; by the end of the song, the synth loops float freely in an uneasy, ambient wave. With the drowsy pulse of "Overand" and the echoing beats of "Radio" (perhaps not so ironically, the most straightforward of the album's songs) to close things out, Tri Repetae stands as a varied, accomplished album, clear evidence of Autechre's unique genius around sound
Too many drum'n'bass artists rely on obvious clichés, leading critics to dismiss the genre on the whole as repetitive. Like Roni Size before him, Adam F hopes to change all that, adding some intriguing spice to the typical, skittering breakbeats-meet-bottomless basslines sonic stew. Opening with the blaxploitation funk of "73" -- chunky wah-wah guitar, bopping congas, rollicking drumbeats and all -- Adam F makes his desire for diversity clear right from the get-go. Drum'n'bass is merely the template from which he launches his heady sonic excursions, flowing seamlessly from the straightforward jungle of "Metropolis" into the brilliantly accessible soul of "Music in My Mind," which boasts dreamy keyboards and a vocoder melody Midnight Starr would kill for. The rest of the album is similarly diverse, from the ambient atmospheres of "Mother Earth" to the strangely gorgeous pop of "The Tree Knows Everything," which features vocals by Everything But the Girl's Tracey Thorn. For purists, there's also a Grooverider remix of "Dirty Harry" and Size's reworking of "Circles," but Colours offers something to please just about every techno fan.
Until this 2014 set from Mute, Cabaret Voltaire's periods with Rough Trade (1978-1982) and Some Bizzare/Virgin (1983-1985) were anthologized separately, as presented on The Original Sound of Sheffield '78/'82 and The Original Sound of Sheffield '83/'87. These discs also drew a greater distinction between CV's output with and without founding member Chris Watson, who departed after the final Rough Trade release, 1982's 2X45. Compiled by the group's Richard H. Kirk, this squeezes 19 of CV's finest 1978-1985 moments on one disc and also provides a service to more serious fans by including 7" versions of several Some Bizzare-era singles. (The 1983/1987 disc used the 12" versions.) Smart selections make this the best and handiest introduction to a group crucial to the development of industrial, post-punk, and dance music, from the confrontational screamer "Nag Nag Nag" to the more accessible and no less brilliant electro cut-up "Sensoria." There's much more to explore through the EPs and albums, recirculated through an extensive reissue campaign overseen by Kirk. Additionally, the one-offs for Factory and Crépuscule aren't represented here. The booklet, featuring essays from Kirk and the Mute label's Daniel Miller, is an extra enticement.
