BIOSPHERE

— First review of this album —

The sequel outshines the prequel by a longshot.

The first album from this collaborative duo was very boring to say the least. Fortunately, both Biosphere and Pete Namlook have been given enough time to mature as composers and reflect on what went wrong before. The primitive rave-influenced ambient techno has been traded in for an ethereal organic atmosphere that is deeply enlightening. The Fires of Ork 2 also trades in the dark moodiness of the previous collaborative effort for a bright and shiny, optimistic sound.

The Fires of Ork 2 is much more laid-back and ambient than the first installment, staying firmly at mid-tempo until the finale (more on that in a minute). The album opens on a perfect note with "In Heaven" which is appropriately ethereal and celestial with floating ambient soundscapes like clouds, lightly plucked harp chords, and soft breathy female vocals that are nothing short of angelic enough to put the manliest of men into a deep slumber. "Sky Lounge" is another beauty, featuring steady smooth jazz-ish drums with soft synth melodies and distant piano all strung together in a breezy ambient bliss, very reminiscent of the soft interlude portion of the song "Sanzen" by Dredg only extended for nearly 10 minutes.

This album does have its drawbacks though. One of the problems from the previous collaboration is still present on this album: the random manly spoken word segments. They're short, but grate on my ears like a German robotic cheese grater unfittingly walking through a blissful angelic garden. It serves no purpose other than to annoy, and that is certainly does very well. The biggest problem, though, is the finale track "Nouvelles Machines", which is a very subdued ambient minimal techno track that completely eschews the beauty of each previous track on the entire album, being sure of itself that it has absolutely no business hanging among the bunch. It's like eating an apple until you take the very last bite and discover a large rotting worm only in that 1-inch segment. It's an upsetting end to an otherwise pleasant journey.

The Fires of Ork 2 is a huge improvement on the previous collaborative effort between Biosphere and Pete Namlook, but it still isn't perfect. Regardless, this is still a worthwhile listen that is mostly profoundly beautiful. However, there are much better albums in Biosphere's discography that are more worth the money.

— First review of this album —

A subpar display of ambient techno and full-on ambient.

This album between Biosphere and Pete Namlook, one of the most famous and prolific electronic music collaborators, is an album that I can only call mediocre. The Fires of Ork is a collection of tracks that are either spacey ambient tracks or primitive ambient techno a la downgraded Microgravity. Regardless of which style is being heard, the music is unimaginative and bland, which is unfortunate considering the stature of these two musicians. The techno tracks are mid-tempo romps of '90s danceclubs, and are much less atmospheric and interesting than the similar and more successful execution of the same style on Biosphere's debut. The ambient tracks are slightly cinematic but develop into absolutely nothing and are far longer than necessary.

Pete Namlook is honestly an artist that I've never been a fan of, but I had my hopes up that Biosphere's usual wonder would save the day, but this seems to be a collaboration where both artists offered up their worst and previously scrapped ideas to create an album that sounds cheap and derivative -- kind of like the results of building a house entirely out of driftwood, scrap metal, and rusty nails. The worst part of the album, though, are the short samples of echoed German spoken word that really serves no purpose except to make this album sound like either Kraftwerk or Rammstein were somehow on board (they weren't).

Out of the five tracks on The Fires of Ork, exactly two tracks stand out to me, and they are both the unimaginative techno tracks. The title track starts off somewhat promising with a spacey synth melody that eventually is pushed along by trademark techno thumping, which is all fine until the 7-minute mark is reached and it becomes supremely annoying. "Talk to the Stars" is an improvement, though, starting off with a lightly atmospheric spacey synth backdrop that is ominous and enticing that eventually becomes more forceful until the trademark techno thumping kicks in yet again. It's a bit more of a open sounding track that has a nice acoustic piano melody that is both beautiful and unsettling but doesn't quite save it from being derivative.

The Fires of Ork is definitely not a standout in Biosphere's discography, and really isn't very interesting in the broad scope of electronic music available in the world, but I'd imagine it makes for a fairly exciting addition to the collection of Pete Namlook collectors.

From the polar caps to the equator.

Whereas Substrata, Cirque, and even some of Autour De La Lune had the trademark arctic sound that Biosphere has been known for, Dropsonde remarkably warms up the atmosphere to about room-temperature. Instead of open drones and cold synth lines that recall the vast openness of the arctic, here we have heated crackling and warm light radiating pulses similar to the sun's rays.

As if that weren't a change significant enough, there is also a light jazz influence present in the percussion on some of the tracks, that starts off with the second track, "Birds Fly By Flapping Their Wings", driven by hard-bop rhythm that relies heavily on the hi-hat while a repetitive bass line a la electric-era Miles Davis thumps away atop warm solar synth ambience. The exact same style is used on the following tracks "In Triple Time" and "Fall In, Fall Out" with small alterations that keep the album from seeming monotonous. Something else worth mentioning is the tonality used on "In Triple Time" and "Arafura" is very Pink Floydian, reminding me a lot of the beautiful acoustic chord progression that opens "Dogs".

Adding on to the changes in Biosphere's sound on this album, Dropsonde also includes a little urban instrumental hip-hop sound. "Daphnis 26" has certain elements such as a steady mid-tempo beat that sounds almost like boom-bap or like a considerably toned-down Flying Lotus while still maintaining a clear intention of being ambient.

Regardless of the alterations in Biosphere's sound on this album, it's still ambient and relaxing just as all of his classic albums are. To me, the light jazz and hip-hop percussion are indications that Biosphere wanted to evolve past his roots in both acid techno and ambient techno and experiment with sounds that he felt would work well with the much warmer textures used on his new electronic soundscapes. Considering this is his first try with such experimentation, it seems that he's pulled it off quite well and hopefully he will continue to explore different sounds and influences.

Biosphere has proven himself to be rather versatile in a genre of electronic music that initially seemed to be doomed by monotony, and continues to do so with Dropsonde. So, for ambient fans who want another great progressive electronic ambient release that isn't simply a rehash of the classics, this is a great choice.

Autour De La Lune is so far Biosphere's most drone-oriented ambient construction and one of his longest at just over 74 minutes.

This is ambient at its most ambient, like floating aimlessly into a void where the only sounds able to be heard are the ones generated by your own consciousness. Drone music is supposed to be empty and calm, but a lot of drone-oriented albums don't offer any variety at all and instead employ one constant drone wave length that runs through every track with an occasional blip-bloop somewhere to invoke annoyance. To be honest, I can't remember a drone album I've enjoyed as much as this one in a very long time. Biosphere's approach has variation. There are high-pitched drones, low-pitched drones, singular drones, multiple drones -- it's the Dr. Seuss drone album! In addition to the drones (they'd be boring by themselves) there are always either minimal progressions, mysterious and short melodic lines, or various textures added to each track as the metaphorical "bells and whistles" that make Autour De La Luna worthwhile.

However, the album doesn't start off as a drone album. The first track, "Translation", is a nearly 22 minute spacial/mechanical exploration into hums, buzzes, minimal synth textures, and faux-symphonic crescendos, also repeating a very short and hypnotizing melodic line that is more unsettling than pretty but somehow maintains both feelings. Something else that makes Autour De La Luna stand out among the millions of drone albums that throw the listener into a void of perpetual boredom is the use of bone/brain rattling bass frequencies usually only heard on the grimiest of modern hardcore rap. There are two tracks on this album, "Vibratoire" and "Circulaire", that consist of almost nothing except a constant vibration that would give Earth's Earth 2 a run for its money. Putting the bass aside, "Disparu" is a short (and almost silent) but sweet aquatic melody that sounds like it is coming from Gregorian chanters from miles away.

Whereas most drone album drone aimlessly into your ears and leaves you with nothing except restlessness, Autour De La Lune has drones deep enough to vibrate your brain into a euphoric paralysis while stimulating your need for melody with mysterious and almost nonexistent hooks. I'd be hesitant to say that this album is as good or enjoyable as Biosphere's classic albums like Substrata and Cirque but it definitely is different in a great way that show's this artist isn't simply a one trick pony -- so far he's at least a five trick pony, and that's more than I can say for many other artists. Autour De La Luna is the album that fills the void in Biosphere's ambient techno based discography with... another void.

Shenzhou is one of the most unique and conceptually interesting albums in Biosphere's discography while also being one of his most minimalistically ambient records.

For this album, Biosphere owes a lot to the French impressionist master, Claude Debussy, whose music is found in miniature samples and provides the melodic backbone for each track. Those familiar with Debussy's music can attest to the beauty and mystery that defines it, but on this album the composition of Debussy's famous music is broken down into minuscule sections that provide only glimpses of beauty and amplify the mysteriousness.

All of the music on Shenzhou is ambient, with no trace of the acid techno, ambient techno, or minimal techno from Biosphere's roots. Also, as opposed to the usually uplifting arctic atmosphere created on previous albums, this album is very cave-like and somewhat smokey. What's left is a very minimal ambient album that uses murky drones as a canvas for vinyl record cracks/pops and short repeated lines of mysterious melody. The atmosphere created on this album is like being deep in a cave equipped only with faint candlelight, and where distant sounds of external rain echoing throughout the tunnels from the opening can be heard.

Aside from the orchestral samples used being from beautiful and relaxing music that would suit just about any time of day, Shenzhou is a rather creepy sounding collection of music that I wouldn't recommend anyone squeamish to listen to before bed. While the album is beautiful, the tone is profoundly dark and unsettling, and this together creates a lot of tension that is barely relaxing. However, the tension of this album actually makes everything more compelling than most ambient music and is just as entertaining as Nujabes' instrumental hip-hop.

Fans of Biosphere and Claude Debussy alike should be able to find something to enjoy about this album, as long as the listener isn't a classical elitist or anything, because Shenzhou definitely puts and entirely different spin on Debussy's classic music. Furthermore, the music on this album sounds exactly like the album cover looks. If you're into mysterious ambient music then Shenzhou is a must have.

Substrata 2 is actually Substrata packaged with the soundtrack for a 1929 film by Dziga Vertov called Man With a Movie Camera. Since I've already reviewed Substrata, I'll be focusing entirely on the soundtrack.

Man With a Movie Camera is a bit like the classic album that it is packaged with, being cold and ambient with almost no influence from the artist's techno days. However, this soundtrack doesn't quite pull of the sound as well. The music is drifting and relaxing but it fails to establish any kind of real mental imagery because everything seems emotionless and distracting. The reason for this, I think, is because this soundtrack is a commissioned work by Tromso International Film Festival instead of it being music that came directly from Biosphere's own intention, but I could be wrong.

Despite this album being emotionless, I am very confident that Man With a Movie Camera is Biosphere's most abstract and experimental music, which seems odd considering that it is based on an already defined theme (the movie). "Freeze-Frames" initially is based on the contrast between the thick rumbling of a train running on its tracks and thin high-frequencies in the vein of Ryoji Ikeda and Alva Noto, all the while a looped jazz melody plays via vinyl record that is later greeted by beautiful clips of classy '20s style operatic vocalization before the entire track dives into the perpetual darkened revolutions of industrial fan blades. "Manicure" samples nearby running water, high-pitched industrial grinding, jarring television static, unidentifiable clicking, and a void of dark drones that all work together to create an uneasily dense/tense atmosphere of elemental confusion.

Because of the large amount of experimental and industrial influence found on this album from the repetitive clicks and pops and various sorts of lengthy mechanical drones tied together with a very raw production, I sense a huge Conrad Schnitzler influence -- this may or may not have been the intention of the artist.

Man With a Movie Camera, despite being ambient, is quite different from the classic emotional work of Biosphere but it does show that he is capable of interesting experimentation with his craft. I've not seen the visual counterpart for this soundtrack, but as a stand-alone album I'd say that it is a very different kind of listening experience for people who are already fans of Biosphere's music, but it is worth hearing if you've already heard everything else.

Following Substrata, a classic in the ambient electronic genre, Biosphere decided to combine his cold, floating ambient soundscapes with the minimal techno of his first two albums. Fortunately, the techno elements do not get overly repetitive as previously used but instead integrate naturally and create a soothing control point for the drifting ambience.

Cirque could maybe be seen as a continuation of Substrata; the atmosphere it gives off is cold and icy, it's aurally dense yet relaxing, and even the album art is somewhat similar. However, because of the buried techno beats, this album is a bit more energetic and is even more similar to Boards of Canada's classic works. This is still not dance music in the least -- beats may be present and energetic, but they're only energetic in a way as relaxing and cerebral as the effects of REM sleep. Because of the added energy in the music coupled with the icy synth textures, the atmosphere created by this album is similar to the arctic imagery created by Susbtrata except with waking wildlife and sped-up glacial time- lapsed scenery.

Whereas Substrata didn't work very well as individual tracks for the most part, Cirque has quite a few tracks that stand out well enough for individual listening. The two part epic "Algae & Fungi" is the progressive centerpiece of this album, moving from polar ambience to the raciest techno influence on the album to what I'd like to call "ambient breakbeat", and it is all a great adventure that is bound to keep even the interest of non- ambient music fans. "When I Leave" is my favorite, and is a Scuba-esque cinematic dubstep/UK house track complete with a hypnotizing vocal sample. "Iberia Eteria" is one of the more relaxed ambient songs on this album with a very vague jazz twist from distant clarinets, which starts out groggy like waking up on a snowy morning but eventually picks up pace.

Cirque shows the same ambient electronic talent of Biosphere's classic Substrata, but seems like an album that would appeal to people looking for something a bit more engaging and upbeat while still maintaining the arctic feel. It is my personal opinion that both albums work great together as a team and that both share the same high level of quality.

Geir Jenssen's first album under the Biosphere moniker is a good first statement for this artist, but is entirely primitive ambient techno that gets tiring and overly repetitive.

Microgravity is less atmospheric than its successor album but is still decently spacey sounding. Despite this, it is still very amateurish and leads to absolutely nowhere. Most of the tracks on this album are very subdued in the percussion department and really don't progress at all over their relatively long durations.

Some songs are more interesting than others, however, which creates a small point of interest. "Tranquilizer" is comfortably bassy and has an array of upbeat tinny percussive elements that lead into a Nils Petter Molvaer sounding horn section. "Cloudwalker II" is a satellite-esque ambient synth track with a slow and resonating beat that sounds like it is emanating from the far-off distance, and is an obvious nod to the Berlin school practitioners that came decades before. The track "Biosphere" is a decently dark and moody ambient track that also shows some Berlin school influence (particularly Schulze) and follows are deep recurring spacey groan that sounds like fallout from some kind of cosmic war.

Unfortunately, the vast majority of Microgravity sounds like the ambient techno and acid techno that dance clubs in the early '90s played constantly, which is embarrassing to say the least. But, in that respect, this isn't a bad album. Its only real problem is that it sounds very primitive and monotonous, though it captures a picture of popular electronic dance music in its own time quite well. As with the follow up album, fans of early Aphex Twin, AFX, and Monolake should be able to enjoy this album, but it is not a good representation of Biosphere's potential at all.

Biosphere's sophomore effort shows a glimpse of the profoundly beautiful soundscapes that he would later construct, but is riddled with amateurish moments and cheap sounding electronics that bring it down quite a bit.

Pataschnik is very spacey, and even the album's title is Russian cosmonaut slang for a cosmonaut who's security cable had been disconnected from the ship leaving him to be lost, forever drifting aimlessly through space. The music on this album is reasonably dark in regard to its implicit subject matter, and the techno influence from Microgravity has been toned down a bit which gives way for more atmospheric touches. Despite the improved atmosphere of the music, the synthesizer sounds and techno influences sound relatively cheap and primitive compared to Biosphere's later work, resulting in an album that sounds unfortunately similar to a N64 sci-fi action game soundtrack with influence from Aphex Twin's infamous Selected Ambient Works 85-92, though both artists where creating the same type of music at nearly the exact same time so to say that one really did influence the other is unfair. Even so, Aphex Twin's style in ambient techno is much more monolithic and atmospheric, and undoubtedly a more successful representation of this style.

There is usage of vocal samples on this album that are not very invasive, but do become somewhat repetitive when used, especially on the opening track. The title track uses a short vocal sample but instead of being repetitive it makes the track sound like a clone of '90s Kraftwerk after they discovered more modern electronic music technology, which is to say it's kind of cheesy and weak sounding. The majority of the album is comparatively well done in construction, though. Each track, even the strong techno ones, are sufficiently atmospheric for ambient techno and are not mechanically invasive to listeners who simply want to chill out. The spacey atmosphere with tinges of melancholy and regret are very well done on the interludes that preface some of the songs.

Pataschnik, while not Biosphere's best work, is an acceptable ambient techno album that fans of early Aphex Twin, AFX, and Monolake could enjoy, but for people looking for a contemplative and atmospheric album that rivals Biosphere's more successful work might want to look elsewhere. All in all, this is an enjoyable album, though many people might consider it to be too weak and juvenile.

Substrata is the first fully picturesque ambient album by Biosphere and is justifiably held in high regard in the ambient electronic musical community.

Following Pataschnik, which is basically ambient but features a lot of juvenile house bounciness and new age touches, this album opts for painting very quiet and well constructed soundscapes that evoke the coldness and whiteness of the arctic.

There tracks on Substrata are not so much for individual enjoyment as they are pieces to a whole that over time enhances the invoked mental imagery of the cold. In some ways the atmosphere created on this album is similar to a much more spacious and ambient interpretation of Boards of Canada's Music Has the Right to Children minus the strong analog synthesizer sound and powerful hip-hop attitude.

Beyond the chilling synthesizers that drive the album's primary sound, there is also a respectable use of various field recordings such as creaking wood and running water, along with vocal samples that are short but contemplative in meaning -- another similarity to Boards of Canada.

Substrata also has a moment of slight weirdness; "Times When I Know You'll Be Sad" is a simple psychedelic clean-toned guitar driven track with disconnected vocals that remind me personally of Barrett-era Pink Floyd. It doesn't meld very well within the context that the album sets, but it's also not a terribly upsetting song. Just kind of odd, is all. This moment of weirdness is made up for later on the album by a song called "Kobresia", a rather progressive and lightly symphonic ambient soundscape that features everything from running water and beautiful swelling synths to radio static and nylon string guitar -- the overall tone of this composition is similar to Einojuhani Rautavaara's beautiful and otherworldly Cantus Arcticus.

For the most part, Substrata is an ambient album but includes various elements that make the music more compelling and engaging than is usually expected from the ambient genre, and definitely a lot more progressive. Its high status in the ambient electronic community is well deserved and is a chilling listen that makes great use of the tension-and- release dynamic throughout its duration that any adventurous listener with an ear for slow progression should be able to enjoy.