Review Summary: Promising proof-of-concept for ambient trance XtaC
As a semi-committed defender of trance music's most overblown, synapse-melting tastefulness-eschewing
excesses, I find the ambient side of things to be a trickier sell. The ambient trance I've enjoyed has largely done away with the genre's infamous rave euphoria, either hearkening back to the expanse and mystique of its New Age roots (Dream Dolphin, James Ferraro), or else finding fresh footing within dubby grooves (Solar Fields, Carbon Based Lifeforms, and the rest of the psybient pantheon). On the other hand, I've been happy to leave any tranquilly-minded attempts at renegotiating trance's ecstatic qualities in the hands of Traumprinz (and aliases), or else atmo-breakbeat crossovers such as DJ Close Your Eyes to Find Me or the great Doss; beyond that, it's all too easy to write off any marriage of ecstasy-trance with blissout-trance as an unenviable juggling act between two appeals that rarely sit naturally alongside one another.
Or perhaps not? Over its strongest handful of songs, iphi's latest release
Sentiment Scrapyard gives me pause for thought, begging the question of whether beatless trance has to be seen as a compromise of energy levels or listening spaces to begin with. Opener "Starting Point" and the following pair of "Baby" and "Aid" start out as bleak reveries, only for floods of sawtooth pads and slicing semiquavers to burst through, hang suspended, and gradually subside to make room for the next impact: rather than spur the track in question on to greater momentum, they spotlight iphi's rather austere take on ambience as a stable constant at either side of their parabola.
As with the rest of the album, these songs are completely devoid of percussion (save for the occasional standalone hit on "Baby" and an unobtrusive hi-hat metronome on "Aid"), emphasising the distance between moments of gratification rather than providing a steady purchase through stability of a beat. This music is infectious – the vocal hook on "Baby" underscores this almost to a fault! – yet its minimal palette emphasises such abrupt changes of dynamics that the listener will likely detect the feeling of clinging to each
r u s h as though by their fingertips. The classic trance elements here sound as unapologetically lurid as they would on a full-tilt Goa odyssey, but iphi's deconstruction gives them a liminal quality that invites close inspection and intrigue without necessarily demanding any extra patience.
It's an interesting and potentially original effect that gives the opening salvo staying power well beyond the sum of its parts, but outside of the shimmer-heavy bonus track "Romance", the remaining tracks shy away from recreating it, focusing instead on a considerably less engaging take on pure ambience. "Cold Hands" is the sole exception here, an ambient pop showstopper replete with a doey vocal performance that might as well have come straight from a lacuna in any given Gidge or Burial smoulderer. It's one of many moments where iphi teases obvious potential without entirely stepping into it: this take on this vocal styling coupled with the opening run's limbo-operation on basic trance vocabulary have great prospective mileage, but their representation on
Sentiment Scrapyard is cursory enough that they scan as little more than a blueprint. Should we stay tuned for more? My interest, at least, is piqued.
