The Turning

Well, crikey basically. Picture the scene: psyreviews is sat in his living room in the middle of December. It’s cold outside (baby), the fire’s on, and the energy is sizzling. Stick this CD in and… wallop, life is never quite the same again. Azax vs Toxic open up with Rain, and f*ck me with a dirty bit of scaffolding, this is a killer. About two minutes in, this mad melody drops. I’ve never heard anything like it, you’ll have to hear it to believe it. This will utterly destroy any dancefloor it gets introduced to, or your money back. The breakdown’s utter genius, then it goes huger and huger and you may well be left with a smile on your face, and some hope that there’s still some life in psytrance yet. Twisted System’s Mad Method is bloody good as well, it’s hectic and swarming with great production, a bonkers midsection, and a crescendo that can only be described as splongey-bounced tom-beepery. Misted Muppet’s Prince of Darkness is typical misted style – crunchy yet melodic (i.e. there’s notes everywhere… are they classically trained or do they just randomly hit keys like rabid speedfreak cats fighting on a keyboard?) Who cares. The topend is literally suspended above you like stars, the breakdown is outstanding, and after which it’s only going in one direction: up. Artifakt’s Nosferatu may have the most sinister breakdown ever recorded, and has a deliriously danceable drop, while Phyx’s Hounds Of Hell bustles and chugs up to a monster, boise-assault final run. Tickets’ The Pre-Determination has an utterly wonderful melody – almost French folk music or something? It’s a nice, spacious groove that puts a smile on the face and doesn’t take itself too seriously. Very, very good indeed. The wonderful Rastaliens are present with The Secret Side, a fuller and deeper groove compared with the rest of the album and with some outstanding movement over the topend. Triskell’s Here Knows When lands us in smooth territory, building up into a nice riff with wonderful ise of melodies, before Slug brings things to a close with Encoded, an utterly original piece that you just have to hear… it’s an anthem, but it’s not anthemic. If you see what I mean. Which you will, of course, when you spend your Xmas money from Aunt Dot on this album: more surprises than a barrelful of pre-op transsexuals, more grit than an aggregate factory and more spice than a convention of Indian chefs making spicey food for the Spice Girls while wearing Old Spice, it all adds up to one wonderful shiny plastic circle.