Welcome Retronauts listeners who are discovering this blog for the first time thanks to my recent appearance on that show. It was a lot of fun to be back after a long hiatus from it!

I do occasionally post game music here. I’ll probably be sharing some in the coming week or so. A good one too, something extra bizarre, so hold tight on for that. In the meantime, be sure to check out my other site, Mostly-Retro.com. I post a lot more gaming and Japan-related stuff there.

In the meantime, here’s an obscure album of synthesizer covers. Y’know, the hottest latest.

E-Project – Synthesizer Trek
The liner notes on this release don’t have a lot of details regarding who E-Project exactly is. But from digging around on the internet I discovered that E-Project is a duo comprised of Susumu Hirasawa and Takashi Kokubo. At least, that’s what a random website said.

It would certainly make sense though. Hirasawa is an incredibly influential and eclectic musician. He’s best known in Japan for his work with P-Model, an amazing group that did a bit of everything from prog rock to new wave synthpop, but he also has an extensive solo discography that I’ve been meaning to dive into a bit more.

Takashi Kokubo has also been around. He was in a prog rock act called Ring, but I don’t know anything about them. What I do know is that after this album was released in 1980 he started pumping out the amazing Synthesizer Fantasy anime/manga “soundtrack” LPs that I often mention here. He put out 10 of those bad boys in a scant three years. I own half and I can personally attest to how utterly amazing they are. Fucking rad shit even if you don’t give a shit about the anime they originate from (I certainly don’t). He also released a Bach covers album called Digital Bach, which I have, and I’m certain I’ll share here at some point.

Anyways, unlike a lot of the other synthesizer albums I’ve featured here recently, this one is almost entirely focused on newer (at the time) compositions, specifically it focuses on themes and songs from big sci-fi epics. That means you get synthesized covers of the Star Trek and Star Wars themes, as well as all-electronic takes on tunes from Close Encounters, Black Hole and even Alien. The main theme from 2001 is also included, because how couldn’t it be. Also along for the ride is the original track “Intergalactic Journey,” and “Night Flight,” a cover of an obscure song I’ve never heard of.

My favorite number on the album is the batshit interpretation of the Star Trek theme. It incorporates this wacky, weird synthesizer springy effect into the mix. Sounds like noises you’d hear if you came across Q-Bert fucking or something.

Sorry for that mental picture.

Please enjoy. And if you’re interested to find out what synthesizers were used on this album, you’re in luck, they listed them all.

Holy shit.

I’ve been ridiculously productive this past week. I revived Game Music Revue to write about the Famicom Game Sound Musuems, and I wrote a blog post about my struggles with converting analog-to-digital. I can’t believe I’ve been doing that for over ten years now. Does that make me an expert? I don’t feel like an expert.

Here’s a cassette tape. I hate them.

Kamiya- Mu
I hate cassette tapes, did I mention that? So I feel like such a hypocrite whenever I buy one. I was just on a podcast (coming soon) and I literally spent a good five minutes rallying against tapes and their unexpected and inexplicable revival here in Japan, only to then go out and immediately buy one.

It wasn’t my first choice though, if I would’ve seen this one on vinyl I definitely would’ve chosen that format first. I mean, look at that cover. That deserves the full 12″ treatment. (Yikes, that sounded like a euphemism.)

Anyway, I didn’t really know what it was when I bought it. I just saw that cover and assumed it was some crazy newage/synthesizer/jazz/funk thing. And I assumed right. I know that sounds like a stretch, but seriously, it feels like every other Japanese album from 1978-1981 fits in that genre.

This album is a real rollercoaster, swinging across all of those genres with some experimental and dissonant stuff thrown in as well. While it does run the gamut, its certainly more towards the easy listening, smooth newage side of the spectrum. If Kamiya was from the states, this would’ve been released on Windham Hill Records.

My favorite cut on the album is without question “Appalachian Road,” a jaunty jazzy little number with excellent vocoder use and a killer melody that’ll get stuck in your head for days. Peter Frampton by way of Herbie Hancock. “Barbarella” is a choice cut too. I imagine playing this in my space lounge, sipping space martinis with my space boyfriend – who is just my current boyfriend but with a jetpack.

Kamiya’s full name is Shigenori Kamiya and I found out after buying this that I actually have another one of his records. In 1982 he released a “soundtrack” to the manga Tomb Of The Pharoh. It was part of the Synthesizer Fantasy series, a collection of albums that present synthesized versions of popular anime themes, as well as a few original soundtracks inspired by manga. I’ve shared some Synthesizer Fantasy records before, they’re on the shortlist of my favorite things ever. If you ever find yourself shopping for vinyl in Japan and you come across any record with that label on, I suggest buying it. You probably won’t be disappointed.

Alexander Katenin – Alone In The Maze Of Rhythms
I’ve been trying to write about this one for a few weeks now. First I was distracted by the horrible Boom Boom Satellites news and then work. But to be honest, most of the delay in posting this came not from external forces, but simply from the fact that this album is so weird that I’m kind of a loss of words as to what to say about it.

This is Alone In The Maze of Rhythm. It’s a synthesizer covers album. There’s nothing entirely unique or weird about that. There were a ton of these in the wake of Wendy Carlos’ seminal 1968 masterwork Switch-On Bach, “let’s take some classical and pop tunes and play them on Moog” was practically a genre in the early 70s. I have quite a few of them. All Moog Hair? Got it. Wanna hear Gershwin on Moog? How about Handel, Beethoven or even the theme to Flesh Gordon? Guess what, a Moog version of it probably exists.

But Alone In The Maze of Rhythm is unique, and just downright weird, for a few reasons. Firstly, while most Moog covers albums were released in the late-60s to mid-70s, this one came later. It came way later. It came 1986 later.

That’s weird. You see, the Moog covers album craze was mostly born out of the fact that most people had never even heard a synthesizer before, and that their sound was so alien that you could record damn near anything on them and someone would want to hear it, at least once. But by 1986, that just wasn’t true. Synthesizers had won. Shit, not only had the world become accustomed to synthesizers, but they were quickly becoming played out. By 1986, most of the innovation that the synthesizer brought to the pop world had been sullied and watered down to the point of banality. We weren’t getting “Cars” anymore, we were getting “I Just Died In Your Arms Tonight.” Synthpop was on its last legs.

I guess no one told the Soviet Union though, because that’s where Alone In The Maze Of Rhythm comes from.

Yes, from behind the Iron Curtain comes Alexander Katenin, a man who…I know absolutely zilch about. Turns out there isn’t a lot of English information on the web about mid-80s electronic covers albums from the Soviet Union. Everything I know about the guy I dug up on Discogs. He released two albums a solo artist, both synthesizer-focused cover records, and one as a part of a duo by the name of…Гоги И Гия Бешитаишвили.

Yeah, I don’t know how to say that. You’re on your own.

So what we have here is a synthesizer-covers album composed in 1986 in Soviet Russia. And yet, we still haven’t reached the actual weird parts of this record.

One of them is the instrumentation behind the record. Not all synthesizer covers albums used Moog synthesizers, but an overwhelming majority of them did, so much that for some, Moog is shorthand for synthesizer. But there are all kinds of synthesizers out there, and this was especially the case in the 80s, with the rise of digital synthesizers like the Synclavier and the Fairlight CMI, two machines that literally defined the very sound of the 80s.

But Katenin didn’t use those. No. He chose the Farfisa Syntaccordion. That’s an accordion/synthesizer combo unit. Now, I don’t know how much of a synthesizer it really is. No way it has the range or capabilities that you might find in a Moog or Fairlight unit, but it was definitely advertised as a synthesizer, as this ad from Retro Synth Ads proves. And the album certainly has a synthesizer feel to it, far more than than an accordion one to be honest.

And so if you were ever thinking “I hope one day I can hear Frank Stallone’s ‘Far From Over’ performed on a strange accordion/synthesizer hybrid,” well then you’re in luck! Ditto if you were ever hoping to hear Soviet-electronica interpretations of Elton John’s “Your Song,” “Gloria” by Laura Branigan, and the theme to “Flashdance,” among others.

This album has an incredibly strange tracklisting, one that I can’t 100% verify, as the liner notes and record label are just straight-up wrong, with tracks in the wrong order and credited to the wrong songwriters. I did my best to fix them on my MP3s, but a few tracks, specifically “Theme d’Avril,” “In Search Of” and “Cappuccino” could still be wrong. So if you give them a listen and know what their real names/point of origins are, please inform me in the comments.

So it’s a weird record with a weird point-of-origin, a weird instrument of choice and a weird tracklisting, but is it any good? Well, I mean…no? It’s cheesy as hell. The cover of “Just The Way You Are” sounds like it was taken out of a compilation of elevator music. But it does have it’s charm. “Gloria” is a dope track that’s hard to fuck up regardless, and the tracks that I can’t properly identify are legit good. “Theme d’Avril” features an absolutely haunting vocal track that sounds all the more unreal when matched up to the cheesy beats coming out of the syntaccordion. And then there’s “Cappucino” which features a rad proto-acid house grimey bass-line paired up with odd, slightly creepy vocalizing that wouldn’t be out of place on a Goblin record.

Give it a listen. And remember that in Soviet Russia, records listen to you.

Hey, I’ve been writing about 1980s Soviet pop culture for the past two hours, I’m allowed one Yakov Smirnoff reference.

I’ve never been into Dungeons & Dragons and I’m never going to be into Dungeons & Dragons, or any form of table-top gaming for that matter. Video games got me at a young age, and the idea of setting up a board and rolling dice while some dude tells me a story about wizards just never appealed to me in the least. I guess I just don’t get the appeal. I’ve tried several times too. I had friends in junior high, college and in my adult life who were way into D&D. Many of them tried to suck me in, all to no avail. But if they would’ve came at me with their 20-sided dice in one hand, and this rad 2LP set of instrumental electronic music in the other, they might have fared a little bit better.

First Quest (Complete Album Download)
I didn’t know what I was expecting when I first dropped the needle on this record after finding it in a record store on the outskirts of Tokyo last week, but it certainly wasn’t a surprisingly above-average collection of minimal, John Carpenter-inspired instrumental electronic music. Considering the inspiration material, I guess I imagined something a little more classically-minded. Perhaps I was expecting a full-on symphonic score or some sort of symphonic metal. Although I guess the latter would’ve been impossible, as this album came out in 1985 and symphonic metal didn’t really exist as a genre at that time.

Save for the final track, First Quest is entirely electronic, and while it features original music by a variety of musicians (of whom I’ll get to in a bit), the album has a fairly consistent creepy, vaguely dark, vibe that carries itself across all of the songs, regardless of composer. The previously mentioned Carpenter influence is strong with this one, echoes of Halloween are all over this record. But while the Carpenter comparison is the obvious one, when I listen to this I much more pick up the ambient stylings of Tangerine Dream, with a menacing hint reminiscent of Goblin’s work with Dario Argento.

With pedigree like that I’m probably overselling it a bit. No, this album isn’t a lost classic that’s ripe for recognition, but it’s certainly worth a listen, and way better than you’d probably expect a cheap collection of instrumental electronica inspired by a table-top board game to be. It’s catchy, fits the inspiration material damn near perfectly, and it’s a lot of fun. If some asshole in a jean jacket and retro-style shades put this out in 2016 ironically, it would probably be an indie-hit. Pitchfork would give it a 7.6.

A total of seven different artists are credited as composers on First Quest. Of them, the most prominent is probably Denis Haines, who was a member of Gary Numan’s backing band for the recording of Telekon. That group went onto form Dramatis, who released one album in the mid-80s before breaking up. He also played on albums by Fischer-Z, The Skids and, strangely enough, Marianne Faithfull. Haines’ work on the record runs the gamut, with some being rather upbeat, and others a tad more dreary and ambient. A standout of his selections is “Gnomes,” an poppy yet dark number that I could easily imagine Gary Numan singing over.

Click for hi-res.

Two other names that pop up a lot on First Quest are Phil Thornton and Dave Miller, who compose about half of the record. Together they were part of an early-80s synth-pop group called Expandis, who continue to release new music, and Thornton has a fairly prolific career as a solo musician putting out new age and ambient music (much of it sci-fi or fantasy themed). Based on their work here and from what I could find of Expandis online, Thornton and Miller probably dug the darker edge of early-80s synthpop and post-punk quite a bit. I bet they totally saw Echo & The Bunnymen live at least once. Their stuff here is good mood music that sets the tone for the album, but sometimes it falls a bit too far into new age territory for my tastes. “The Return Of Light” is a damn fine closer though.

Then there’s Steve Parsons, in addition to the handful of tracks he donated to this record, he also worked a bit as a film composer in the 80s, contributing songs to the superb Empire State soundtrack, and composing the horrifically bad score the the hideously awful Howling II. His tracks here aren’t that great, but I’ve read that the solo stuff he released under the name Snips is much better.

There’s also Barrie Guard, whose one contribution to First Quest, “The Heroes Ride Out” is an easy highlight. If his Discogs is any indication, Guard got a lot of work in the 70s and 80s, working for musicians as diverse as Bonnie Tyler, Dusty Springfield and Cliff Richard. He was also the orchestra conductor for the score to one of my boyfriend’s favorite films, A Room With A View, so the next time you want to connect Merchant And Ivory to D&D in just one step, there you go. Too bad he never stuck with the minimal electronic score thing, he was pretty good at it.

The only group credited on First Quest is a band called The Device, who only show up for one track. Their tune isn’t bad, and is definitely one of the more Carpenter-inspired joints on the album. They didn’t seem to do anything outside of the album though, and I can’t find much about them. Finally, there’s guitarist G.P. Hall, who concludes the album with an entirely out-of-place guitar track. He has a fairly expansive Wiki entry that he probably wrote and should probably be deleted.

The album also features some brief snippets of narration by Valentine Dyall, who geeks will probably recognize as The Black Guardian from Doctor Who. He also starred in a shitload of British movies throughout the 40s and into the 80s before he passed away in 1985, shortly before the release of this album, hence his credit as “The Late Valentine Dyall.”

The packaging for First Quest is rather elaborate, featuring a gatefold sleeve and two custom inner sleeves which feature printed instructions for a Dungeons & Dragons campaign that follows the (rather loose) story outlined in the album’s music. Not knowing much about D&D, I couldn’t tell you if the campaign is well thought-out or worthwhile in anyway, I’d love to hear insight from anyone who might know.

Not a great album, but definitely a fascinating one, and a wonderfully dated product of its time that I think is ripe for rediscovery by a more accepting audience. I hope you find it as fun as I do.

Before I get to the music tonight, I want to share a few things I wrote over at that other site. I put up a review  of some recent game music releases, wrote a thing about how I’m done with horror movies for now, followed that up with a hella bizarre piece about Kiki’s Deliver Service, Amazing Grace and Chuck and the lack of human empathy (I was having a strange week), did a quick write-up of another Nirvana re-issue, put together a sadly relevant piece about a movie that predicted America’s mass shooting problem, and then closed out with a piece on STP.

Been busy. Anyways, some weird shit for the holiday season.

I’m consistently impressed by the oddball shit I find in Japanese record stores.

This is Life In The Future, a bootleg compilation of obscure Swedish post-punk.

Quick, ask me anything about Swedish post-punk.

Okay, I’m going to be honest and tell you that I don’t know shit about Swedish post-punk. I didn’t know the Swedes had post-punk. I thought they only had two genres in Sweden, ultra-poppy and cheery dance-pop and hardcore death metal. Shows you what I know.

But I wished I knew more, but because damn, this is a really great record. It does kind of get off to a rough start with the intentionally abrasive “Forlast Javel” by HörförstÃ¥else, but it picks up soon after that, with all flavors of post-punk getting due mention here. Like dissonant, depressing post-punk ala Joy Division? Then check out “Vanda Inat” by Unter Den Liden. Into quirky dance-punk with an electronic bent? Be sure to play the utterly manic “Happy Funeral” by the wonderfully named Kitchen & The Plastic Spoons. If you like darkwave synth-pop with a touch of New Order you’re more than covered here with great tracks like “East People” by Vitality and “The Gift” by Reasons To Live. And if you like weird shit that would make most people’s head explode, skip straight to the utterly bizarre “I Throw Punches” by one Friz Be.

As I said before, most of the stuff on this record is incredibly obscure. Most of the acts here didn’t even release a full album, and instead just offered a single or two before vanishing completely. Of the acts on here, the most well-known is probably Cortex, who get their material re-issued on a semi-regular basis. I couldn’t tell you much about them though.

Keep in mind, this is a vinyl rip of a bootleg record that was in itself most likely sourced from vinyl. So don’t expect killer audio quality with this one. Still, good stuff overall, so if you’re like me and have exhausted nearly every post-punk act that England and America had to offer, check it out!

Complete Tracklisting (Download Link)

1. Forlast Javel - Hörförståelse
2. Tristess No. 3 – GPJ
3. Happy Funeral – Kitchen & The Plastic Spoons
4. Envy – Modern Art
5. Jesus I Betong – Cortex
6. Chinese Junkies – Njurmannen
7. Dance – Odd Stories
8. Rekordmagasinet – Mats Olofsson
9. The Gift – Reason To Live
10. I Throw Punches – Friz Be
11. Vanda Inst – Unter Den Liden
12. East People – Vitality
13. She’s A Waitress – Elektriska Cellskapet
14. Operator – Tres-Operator