75 Years of the Album: 46. 1994

A quick scoot through nine from ninetyfour, a year packed with impressive releases. Previous entries in this series have been pretty eclectic. This one not so much, but I offer no apologies for that.

Underworld – Dubnobasswithmyheadman (Junior Boys’ Own January).

With the “Spikee” single dodgy eighties nu-funk band Underworld reinvented themselves as a sleek, mean techno machine. But the bone crushing beats on the follow-up LP were combined with reflective pieces like “M E”, and Karl Hyde’s stream of consciousness lyrics. It’s still the Underworld album by which all others are judged. “Dirty Epic” is still ten minutes of narcotic bliss.

Aphex Twin – Selected Ambient Works Volume II (Warp March).

Aside from “Blue Calx” all the tracks on this sprawling two and a half hour double (one thing that links nearly all of these albums is their length: on vinyl these would be double, triple, or quadruple LPs) are officially untitled, although all have been given titles semi-officially. This is Richard James’ ambient magnum opus. Not all is beatless, and some stretches the ambient tag a bit, but it contains some of his most emotional music. Not one to repeat himself, he’s never attempted another album like it. I expect a volume three would be lapped up by his fans (me included), but it would be a retrograde step.

Future Sound of London – Lifeforms (Virgin May) / ISDN (Virgin December).

ISDN only got a limited edition release in ‘94 – it was reissued in an unlimited edition in early ‘95. It was an interesting concept that predated the kind of streamed concerts that exploded during lockdown. It wouldn’t have been possible to do that in the early days of the internet with dial-up modems and floppy discs. The duo instead put on a concert where the music was fed down a high speed ISDN line from their studio where they were playing live. I’m surprised it never caught on. Autechre could do that since their penchant is to perform on a totally unlit stage. Anyway, ISDN is a much more beefy and aggressive affair than the burbling, liquid Lifeforms. Both are the sound of an act at the top of their game.

Prodigy – Music for the Jilted Generation (XL July).

The Prodigy still wore their rave roots proudly on their sleeves with this battering, clattering set of techno-punk. But there was sufficient diversity in sound to keep it interesting through its nearly eighty minute duration. The closing “Narcotic Suite” gave a nod to the foggy dub-influenced and disconnected tunes that were being branded ‘Isolationism’ at the time. After this the Prodigy became a cartoon. An entertaining cartoon, maybe, but a cartoon all the same.

Global Communication – 76:14 (Dedicated July).

Like the Aphex double, no tunes on the 76 minutes and 14 seconds of 76:14 had any other track titles than their duration. This album is deified in certain circles as the absolute pinnacle of ambient techno. I wouldn’t disagree. In particular the ‘tick tock’ that runs through “14:31” gives it an air of mortality and the ephemerality of life. Not so much a rage against the dying of the light, but a quiet acceptance of its inevitability.

Orbital – Sinivilisation (Internal August).

It’s probably apparent by now that ‘94 was the year that most of the big guns of dance music were at the top of their game. Sinivilisation’s place amongst Orbital’s albums has slipped over the years but at the time it was hailed as the pinnacle of their career. It extended their reach to longer (“Are We Here”), faster (“Quality Seconds”), more robotic (“Kein Trink Wasser”), and more Warp-like sounds (“Sad But True”) whilst still sounding very much like themselves. I think it still holds up as their best record.

Portishead – Dummy (Go Beat! August).

Trip hop. The most derided and risible genre definition this side of dream pop. At least shoegaze and Baggy have a bit of humour about them. Dummy may have hip hop beats and DNA, but it’s really just a set of superior torch songs in a nineties setting. And that is in no way meant as a criticism.

Come – Don’t Ask Don’t Tell (Matador October).

Yes, there were still guitar bands about in ‘94, untouched by electronic music or the dance floor. Unfortunately most of them were anaemic rehashes of their forebears. Not all, of course. Come were an astonishing live band. Thalia Zedek and Chris Brokaw’s guitars weaved around each other telepathically to create a web of tension, never far from collapse, over which Zedek could tell her tales of dysfunctional relationships. Miraculously they appeared able to catch a good percentage of that magic in the studio. Don’t Ask Don’t Tell has moments of quiet reflection, but even those carry a threat that something is about to snap. Much of the rest is a maelstrom, but one that is intricate as it is powerful. This what rock music can do, but so seldom does.

75 Years of the Album: 44. 1992

1992 was another really good year for the LP. I’ve chosen half a dozen, but could easily have added Fontanelle by Babes in Toyland, Let Me Come Over by Buffalo Tom, The Future by Leonard Cohen, Hypocrisy is the Greatest Luxury by the Disposable Heroes of Hiphoprisy, Silence by Pete Namlook and Dr. Atmo, the first Rage Against the Machine album, Dirty by Sonic Youth, March 16-20 1992 by Uncle Tupelo or Harvest Moon by Neil Young. But I didn’t…

Tori Amos – Little Earthquakes (East West January).

Tori Amos has ploughed her own particular furrow over more than thirty years, but this, her first solo record, remains her finest achievement. It has big brash pop (“Crucify”), childlike ditties (“Happy Phantom”), symphonic balladry (“China”), classic pop tunes (“Silent All these Years”), and the chilling, a capella “Me and a Gun”.

Aphex Twin – Selected Ambient Works 85-92 (Distance February).

I don’t think it’s possible to over-estimate the impact this record has had on the music of the last thirty years. It successfully fused the dancefloor and the chillout room in one fell sweep. It’s damn near perfect from the first ‘tss-tss-tss’ of “Xtal” to the fading notes of “Actium”. In an era when the word genius is bandied about with gay abandon, Richard James is the genuine article. The technology behind this record must have been primitive by today’s standards, and yet it doesn’t show its age at all. His way with melody is instinctive, but he’s equally happy making a racket, and he’s adept at finding sounds that nobody else seems to be able to do.

Pavement – Slanted and Enchanted (Matador April)

The late eighties and early nineties were awash with lo-fi and no-fi bands, rejoicing in their awkwardness, and ramshackle amateurism. They may have been fun, but the vast majority left nothing memorable impressed on the synapses once the record stopped. Pavement were as ramshackle as anyone. Many, including Mark E Smith, accused them of being Fall wannabes. The thing is, though, Pavement records are full of earworms. The tunes are memorable, and rather than being a sign of sloppyness, the wayward nature of the band actually serves the songs really well. Slanted and Enchanted is generally thought of as their best, but to be honest you could pick any of their first three or four LPs.

Dawn Upshaw / London Sinfonietta / David Zinman – Henryk Gorecki: Symphony no.3 (Nonesuch May).

Classical recordings rarely reach the top ten of the LP chart. When they do, it’s usually something familiar played by somebody famous (e.g. Nigel Kennedy doing the Four Seasons, or Pavarotti doing Puccini), or some bland Classic FM endorsed singer or singing group. Obscure post-modernist Eastern European composers definitely don’t have hits. Gorecki composed his third symphony in 1976. Subtitled the Symphony of Sorrowful Songs, the three movements each have a theme of mourning, entangled with the deep-rooted Catholicism of Poland, and its people’s suffering during the Second World War. Dominated by soprano and strings, this is a work that mines a bottomless well of sadness without ever wallowing in it. There is always hope. This recording was made a full fifteen years after the piece was given its premiere in France. It is hard to see how any other interpretation could improve upon the performances here, especially Upshaw’s emotive soprano. A masterpiece.

REM – Automatic for the People (Warner Brothers September).

REM’s best-selling record may not be the favourite of the aficionados, but it’s hard to argue with the quality of the songs on offer. Ballad heavy, and generally stately in pace, it’s a long way from the muffled jangle of Murmur. Hard to find fault with any of it though.

Iris DeMent – Infamous Angel (Philo October).

I’m not a huge fan of country music, especially anything post-Hank Williams. This is just a superb collection of breezy folk-country tunes. Melodic, intelligent, unfussy, grown-up. Deep themes given a light touch. Opening track “Let the Mystery Be” is quite a brave move for a singer in a genre swamped by evangelists. Her message being ‘life is a wonderful thing, why do we need to be dogmatic about explanations as to why we’re here’. She’s not taken a stand against religion, but against its adherents insistence that they are right and anyone who disagrees is misguided or worse. And done it in such a way that it is hard to find fault with her. This kind of common sense is all over this record, but it’s still packed with emotion. A real gem.

Album: THE TUSS – Rushup Edge (Rephlex CAT189 2007)

It’s fairly common knowledge that The Tuss aka Karen Tregaskin aka Brian Tregaskin is in fact Richard D James. Rushup Edge is a short, six track album that has got the Aphex fanboy brigade breathless with excitement. The thing is, though, the whole thing sounds like it could have been recorded a dozen years ago. Both “Synthacon 9” and “Last Rushup 10” are brisk acid tracks that wouldn’t have sounded too out of place on I Care Because You Do. That’s not necessarilly a bad thing – both tunes are strong. But it is indicative of how James’ has moved from being a musical innovator and revolutionary into being almost a nostalgic standard bearer for an exciting era of electronic music now passed. “Shiz Ko E” gives the same kind of queasy take on eighties electro that “Windowlicker” did – even down to the Commodore 64 synthesised voice and rubber band bass.

“Rushup I Bank 12” opens the second half of the album, an urgent breakbeat tune featuring a mangled piano arpeggio. It’s a fantastic track that harks back to the days when hardcore was morphing into early jungle. “Death Fuck” is an atmospheric drill ‘n’ bass piece that gives new life into a tired (and often tiresome) form. The beats are tempered with what sounds like a squelching 303, and all manner of little melodic vignettes are chucked into the mix. It’s the only track of the six that actually sounds like it was recorded this century. Having said that, it’s the tune I like the least – it’s just too busy. The album wraps with “Goodbye Rute”, a mid-tempo, melodic IDM piece that harks back to the classic mid nineties Warp sound. It’s lush – a bona fide Aphex classic.

Perhaps I’m expecting too much. For five years from 1992 to 1997, virtually everything that James did was astonishing, and pushed electronic music into a myriad of new directions. Everyone eventually caught up. Rushup Edge still probably couldn’t have been made by anybody else. The sounds James achieves are extraordinary, and the level of detail in the tracks shows a deftness of touch that he’s never lost. But this is music that consolidates achievements rather than striking out for new ones. These criticisms could only be made of someone of James’ calibre. For anyone else, Rushup Edge would be considered a career highpoint. It is an excellent work, and I feel like a heel to be grumbling at all. No Aphex fan is going to listen to this album and not like it a lot. And I guess that’s what matters most.