Like the bag of that generous globe-trotting fat man, you can expect the AmbiEntrance Overviews section to be brimming with a miscellaneous hodge-podge of assorted sounds and styles from all over the spectrum. Dig in... Arvo Pärt: Arbos   (ECM Records - 1987) (9.2) My introduction into the world of Arvo Pärt yields one very pleasing hour of historical atmospheres... Brassy layers abound in Arbos (2:29); its majestic, medieval lilt is accented by kettledrums and clanging accompaniment. Gently swaying voices of both sexes entwine around An den Wassern zu Babel; their golden choruses are practically a cappella, backed by only the faintest of organ sounds. Speaking of organ sounds, Para Intervallo is dominated by big-yet-gauzey tonal sheets, pumping and humming in a dank splendor. Sonorous male choirs drape the organ and bells of De Profundis with profound melancholy. Seemingly note-for-note, Arbos reappears before the grand finale; lengthy and heraldic Stabat Mater (23:54) combines strings with an operatic vocal trio. Throughout, mythic castle scenes are lovingly brought to life, a decaying elegance which captures the glimmer and the gloom. Gorgeous! Martin Atkins/Chicago Industrial League: An Industrial Christmas Carol   (Invisible - 1995) (8.2) Martin Atkins, Mark Spybey and others deliver a mean-spirited, pessimistic, yet often compellingly listenable Holiday denouncement. The 14-minute Introduction ranges from plinks and chimes to thundering drums laced with the whispers of bad elves. Multimedia snippets are sprinkled throughout the surging female-chant-electronics-and-drums force of The Spirit of Christmas, juxtaposing phrases such ad "age old hatred never takes a holiday", "go to church" , "sacred music", "suicide bomber", "war" and a chipper weatherlady's "snow". Acidic anti-sentiments, crying babies, distorted choirs and more TV voices are only part of the shifting tableau of I'm Dreaming of a White Noise Christmas (17:59) which rants (sometimes rather obliquely, other times very forwardly) against the rampant commercialism of Christmas in America. Electric sequences and pulsing bass segues into Outro overlain by a sweet reprise of womanly chanting. Not for the Christmas traditionalist! Colette and Phil: Ancient Ancestors   (MysterySong- 2000) (7.9) There are so many slanderous epithets which we can hurl at New Age music... sappy, gloppy, wimpy, saccharine, etc... but the fact remains that many folks are into it, as artists and as listeners... Colette and Phil proudly take a home-spun approach which I find less off-putting than overproduced works from so-called masters... certainly opening track Ancient Ancestors demonstrates that pride with big, bold brassiness and stridently clear "hi-ya-ya" chorus ringing out amid synthfloes and piano sparkles. Mystical quarters are explored via e-piano, synths, drums, layered choruses and natural atmospheres in the melancholy-yet-uplifting Greenstone. Twinkling ivory and ocean breezes carry womanly vocal strands into an Arabesque (3:26) of ethnic patter and synth sparkles. The subtle synthscapes of Ascension (10:47) are soon infiltrated by rippling textures, bell-chimes and whispery phrases about love and joy, then liturgical-style chants. Synthesized string-and-brass sections cut loose as does Colette with her "Amens". In this day and age you have to give credit to someone for having the conviction to put "File Under: New Age" right on the label! Discover more at the Ancient Ancestors site. Ozone Player: Insane Logic   (Visual Power - 2000) (8.2) Multiple personalities manifest themselves in the spiritedly-arranged-though-schizoprenic electronics of Insane Logic... From the dark sci-fi-like opening of Whales In Fog we slip into the much sweeter synth tinkling of Shipping (2:07), then into the unintelligible transmissions of The Reality Dysfunction (7:32); this track heads in many directions from eerie to bouncy, encountering dozens of sonic events like ringing phones, old-time pianos, splashing water,wispy shimmers of synth and cartoony musical outbursts. The luxuriant (if a little New Agey) piano of Casino Mobile is topped with spunky e-beats and breezy '60s-style chorus (whose syllabic "bahp-dah-bah"s are quite nicely rendered!). Harder Minibar warps and weaves with its wiggling melody. Spacey Process wavers in an appeallingly weird weightlessness. While I detect sincere obsession and definite talent in electro-composer Otso Pakarinen, many of these tracks were too overtly "musical" and/or "kooky" for my personal tastes; judge for yourself at www.ozoneplayer.com. Pablo's Eye: Devotions   (Celcius Blanco Records - 1992) (8.5) My first look into Pablo's Eye finds seven short audiocollages of artfully cross-pollinated musical forms often decorated with the poetry of tastefully-applied spoken word. Surging sax mutations infiltrate the dreamy jazzscape of Tamil Nadu while Nest of Fishes abounds in sparklingly frenetic keyboarding and well-modulated female words. A murky swirl envelopes the foreign tongues of Sentence (1:53), which then engages in musical shape-shifting as if awash on cosmic tides of organ, synths and electric guitars. Multilingual chants and Eastern rhythms speak a Double Language topped by a simple, crooned tune. Worship & Passion are ensnared by a vortex of violin sounds, plinging strings and breathy womanliness. Dazzlingly produced, dizzyingly arranged and at 19:51, too brief. Raymond Scott: Soothing Sounds for Baby (Volume 2: 6-12 Months)   (BASTA - 1997) (8.2) Years before Eno coined the term "ambient music", sonic inventor Raymond Scott (who'd been musically active for several prior decades) was creating his own electronic sound-makers and recording their unique output. In 1963, Epic released Scott's 3-part Soothing Sounds for Baby series as an "aural toy" for infants as prescribed by the Gisell Institute of Child Development, Inc. (Learn more about Scott's illustrious-to-obscure-to-celebrated history at THE Raymond Scott website). Immediately bursting my assumption that these would be simplistically serene tones, Tempo Block (3:19) leaps into a bright blippy life, pumped by a rather technotribalistic rhythm. Similarly peppy notes chime and swirl in The Happy Whistler's 11-minute syncopated duration; said notes sometime surge and sometimes lull over an energetically hypnotic 6-note rhythm. Toy Typewriter (17:44) emits an extended document of percussive clatter; quite intriguing, at least for the first six or seven minutes; the repetitive electronic riffing eventually tires me out... perhaps that's what it was supposed to do for baby? While its historical importance cannot be denied, the disc's short 32 minutes leaves me wanting to hear more from Scott's experiments. J. Arif Verner: A Vision Beyond Light   (Spotted Peccary - 1996) (8.5) Occuring on the more-celestial side of an intersection where space music meets new age, A Vision Beyond Light specializes in crystalline scenes rendered in sparkling multi-instrumental serenity. The softly strummed strings of In Lucid Dreams are merged with icy synthstreams, twinkling chimes, quiet drones and faint tribalized percussion. On its ethereal flight, Above Empty Clouds drifts briefly amongst flute- and string-like billows. Amid glittering piano tinkles, Verner breaks out the Aeolian Wind Harp in Floating Feather, and of course, in Aeolian Atmospheres (1:58), where the instrument is backed by delicious, dark spacedrones. Through misty contortions of sound, An Embryonic Breath (11:40) blows, traveling along a fantastic corridor of ghostly radiance, synth-symphonics and space-organic activities. Caressed by stellar winds of loveliness, Verner's work transcends earthly genre boundaries. sven vath: the harlequin- the robot and the ballet-dancer   (Eye-Q - 1996) (8.4) Musical characterizations by way of buoyant techno beats merged with luxurious ambient interludes... A definite cinematic prescence flows in on the percussion-free electrosoundscape of intro, though the spoken foreshadowing seems unnecessary (and the maniacal laughter overdone). Each title "character" takes the stage for two or three tracks. Blippy tones swelter around harlequin plays bells, to be joined by a bubbly bass riff, pattering beats and sputtering/sweeping synths, while harlequin's meditation (12:45) submerges into a beatlessly thrumming world of muted chimes, revving motorsounds and synthchoral drones. Spiraling strands of softness presage the the birth of robby, where pulsing electronics build into a being of technotribal syncopations. Pounding with exuberance and electric gurgles, Robot establishes a peppy and well, robotic, rhythm which sounds ripe for a dancefloor on Mercury. Liquid symphonics introduce the ballet dancer in ballet-romance (0:50), segueing into ballet-fusion which blends synth-orchestral movements and stylish piano with vibrant e-energies. Soft piano and violins close the disc with the beatless, electronics-laced symphony of the ballet-dancer. Just a little something I ran across to pep up my holidaze. Zuco 103: Outro Lado   (Ziriguiboom/Six Degrees - 2000) (8.3) Warm your surroundings with an hour of spicy Brazilian electronica which showcases Lilian Vieira's sweet-to-sultry vocalizations, which range from half-whispers to strident wails to perky-girl-speak. (Of course, I've always felt that the language barrier helps keep vocal music within an ambient range of incomprehensibility...) With ethnic street-party energies, Brazilectro buzzes with spunky syncopation and tweedling flutations. Many tracks (such as brass-and-piano infused Maracatu Atômico and the 1940s-ish crooning and melting violins of Fome Total) wisp through loungey stylings. The linguistic acrobatics of speedily spoken Zambumba No Mar are mixed with playful blips and beats. The crazy canivalia of instrumental No Bar do Samba and its "futuristic" bachelor-pad sounds could easily be passed off as a track from retro-hipsters Combustible Edison. Light, rippling organ tones form the brief span of a bridge that is Organmezzo (0:33), leading into the dreamy beatfest of Frustração (6:52). Overall, a bundle of light, exotic fun. Posted December 30, 2000 | 1999/2000 Overviews Index

AmbiEntrance © 2000-1997 by David J Opdyke (except CD cover art, rights retained by original owners).