Space Dimension Controller - Return to Microsector 50 (R&S, 25 Feb)
In the past, we've possibly been a little disparaging of Space Dimension Controller, not for the quality of his music, which is an unquestionably excellent fusion of electro-funk, techno, cosmic disco, but for the over-the-top presentation he insists on. The musical Kayfabe that he adheres to draws so heavily from trash-fiction and indulges it without a shred of self-knowing, that it comes across as slightly demented... However, SDC's Mr 8040 character and his rapidly-expanding universe do have their own unique charm, and with the fine line between genius and madness blurring at post-light speeds, Return to Microsector 50 currently orbits the twin moons of "so bad it's good" and "so bad it's horrible". To put it another way, I can't decide if its Batman and Robin or Batman; The Movie.
As well as the fact that the music's bloody brilliant, it's SDC's dedication to and enthusiasm for the gimmick that's slowly turning me into a convert; this teaser EP for debut album Welcome to Microsector-50 features a final track of ambient washes and desolate drones that seems fairly typical of electronic EPs. Its title? Music for Spaceports. It's this hilariously irreverent bastardisation of Eno's terminology for his own ends that just tips the balance and lands Space Dimension Controller firmly in the land of the eccentric genius. As noted, the rest of the EP's pretty damn good too, functioning as both deleted scenes from the full album and the missing links of Space Dimension Controller's musical history - the title track joins the dots between Juan Atkins and the Rotters Golf Club, and Whilst I Was Away brings together aspects of ambient and dub that feel a little disparate in the album's lengthier interludes and had left Quadraskank Interlude feeling out of place. Most importantly though, the EP flat out drips cosmic slop, opening up into a massive George Clinton homage, replete with future-funk riffs, wailing guitar solos and acid-fried fantastical narratives.
For me, the Funkadelic love is the last piece of the puzzle that suddenly makes sense of SDC's overblown narratives and deliberately trashy vocals - it's the cornerstone that contextualises everything else and gives credence to magnificent combination of funk and psychadelica.
We wrote last year that Space Dimension Controller's first work for R&S was excellent music, packaged up with a ludicrously OTT backstory. Following this up, Space Dimension Controller's latest offering Welcome To Mikrosector-50 takes the cosmic prog nonsense to an even higher level, expanding on the further exploits of Mr. 8040 and his adventures in time travel and treating entirely straight-faced. Regardless, it all sounds pretty good, and we'll post a full review shortly, but whether the concept album improves on or detracts from the sound is another matter entirely...
You know what? Here's some sci-fi for you all to read.
2013
After four years stranded on Earth he has finally repaired the time
travel capabilities of his Electropod. His goal was to return to the
exact moment in the future of his fateful accident, but due to only
having primitive Earth tools and technology at his disposal, the
journeys destination was not as accurate as he had hoped and he ended up
arriving 5 years later than anticipated.
Now, Mikrosector-50 has changed. It is no longer the strictly
governed dystopian planet as Mr. 8040 remembers, where music was
controlled by the Tiraquon Security Council and love was deemed
unnecessary. Instead people were having fun and love and music filled
the streets. At first, Mr. 8040 enjoyed this change and received a huge
planet-wide welcome party, but once the party was over Mr. 8040 knew
that he had to find his secret lover from before the accident and try to
continue what they once had in this new free planet.
Upon returning to his home pod on the Armament Moon and still unaware
that it is 5 years later than he expected, he finds the pod to be
completely empty, with no sign of his secret lover. He activates the
pod's computer and asks where she is, only to find out he is in year
2357 and that there has been no activity in his pod since shortly after
he left. Upon learning this, he knows there is only one person he can
find answers from, his boss, lead Space Dimension Controller of the
Tiraquon Security Council, Max Tiraquon. He meets Max, but something
doesn't seem right, there is a sense of hostility.When asked about the
whereabouts of Mr. 8040's lover, Max is reluctant to say and tells him
that she knows what he had been up to in the past.The women, the
nightclubs, the parties. He tells her she's moved on, and maybe Mr. 8040
should too.After this encounter,Mr.8040 tells Max that he is done and
leaves,quitting theTiraquon Security Council.
Disorientated and alone in a future no longer his own, Mr. 8040
realises his mistakes, he has done wrong by his lover, but how he will
ever see her again to apologise? He leaves Mikrosector-50 and the
boundaries of the Tiraquon6 Security Barrier for the distant pirate
asteroid colony of EroDru-10. Famous for it's nightclubs, drugs and red
light district. He needs to let off some steam, and maybe find a girl,
but his game isn't the same as it used to be. Refused by countless
girls, a drunk Mr. 8040 gets thrown out of a club and stumbles around
the streets of EroDru-10. He encounters a local alien who recognises him
and takes him to his nightclub, his guards are down and he takes a
cosmic upper to help the night along. Intoxicated on drink and drugs he
dances through the night in this sweaty club, before finishing the night
with a robotic prostitute at her love pod.
All night he has been trying to mask the pain of losing his girl but
reality hits him hard and he decides to go somewhere he hasn't been for
years.The place that he built for his secret lover shortly before the
accident that sent him back through time. He's not sure what he'll find
there, he's hoping for answers, but how could he know. He tells the
ships computer to set course for The Love Quadrant.
The Love Quadrant is no longer the same. It's power source had
diminished due to the lack of activity while he was away. Instead of the
vibrant and colourful cosmic oasis it once was, it was now a dark, grey
and cold place. Mr. 8040 now knows that the future is no longer the
place for him, that the past had become more of a home. It's time to
return to the Quadrasector of the Tiraquon6 Security Barrier to find his
main ship. He enters the vessel, and finds that someone had been there,
but nothing had been taken and quickly shrugs it off as another
attempted looting by an Astro Bandit. Now, in the same location as the
accident, Mr. 8040 asks his computer if it would be possible to recreate
the accident and send him back through time again. The computer
refuses, it's protocol disallowing any action that may put it's user in
danger, but Mr. 8040 opts to do it manually. He orders his computer to
return to Mikrosector-50 and inform Max of his decision to return to the
past. He enters the walkway to his Electropod and begins his journey
back through time with a mission of groove.
Lindstrom is back with a new single on the Norwegian label Smalltown Super Sounds, called "Quiet Place To Live". It comes backed by a remix from 70s prog-rock-meets-white-boy-soul legend Todd Rundgren. As far as I am aware this is the first time Rundgren has remixed anything, and with its driving rhyhm, nagging vocoders and floaty FM synths, this is a marriage made in space-disco heaven:
Space Dimension Controller - The Pathway to Tiraquon6 (R&S Records, 17 October)
Space Dimension Controller's new EP - the prelude to a full-length album - is proof of three very important and significant points about modern electronic music.
While techno can seem to be all about forcefully dark and misanthropically minimalist structures (something I do endorse) there's still plenty of room for lush landscapes and the epically cosmic.
R&S records will never be "too old for this shit", they still very much have it, and are putting out bold and challenging records that are well worth paying attention to.
Artists should never write their own press releases.
Space Dimension Controller's new EP drops into my inbox with the accompanying blether;
"In the mid 24th Century, a cosmic accident caused Mr. 8040, the Space Dimension Controller, to spiral back through time to the year 2009. Over the past year, stranded in our time, and confined to his Electropod. Mr. 8040 has been preparing an account of the events that led to the discovery of Mikrosector-50 and the creation of the Tiraquon6 security barrier...." After a further six paragraphs of Buck Rogers/ Star Wars EU / 2000 AD-styled ramblings about "the Pulsovian leader, Xymah the Usurper", "the flourescent trails of [an] electropod", "micron accelerators" and time travel, we finally conclude this rambling origin story.
Utter bollocks; hammier than Raul Julia in Street Fighter and manages about as much subtlety as the worst David Gemmel novel.
However, as a great man once warned us, "It's Hip to Be Disillusioned" and you have to admire the sheer indulgence of the writing - this was never meant to be cool. Affectionate parody or ludicrous indulgence, it perfectly sums up the EP's content; Moroder-esque analogue synths chock out hi-energy disco riffs alongside Detroit electro rhythms worthy of Model 500, expousing a complex narrative over the eleven tracks. In fitting with the storytelling concept, the EP is bookended by a Feature Presentation and Closing Credits, the former a swift synth noodle of the EP's leitmotifs, whilst the latter starts off riff-centric, blurs away into a void of drawn-out drones and springs a surprising coda. Inbetween, we get the RGC-esque machine funk of Pulsovian Invasion, the beatless Last Sunset On Planet Earth, and deliciously retro techno in Tiraquon's Return (A New Home) and Usurper.
Whilst SDC's unashamedly hyperactive and indulgent style will turn more resolute techno heads away, Pathway is a strongly crafted EP that showcases a brave new talent. Space Dimension Controller is comfortable in his geekiness, and he has a real ear for melody.
Admittedly it is hard to find workable DJ tools. The strong narrative focus naturally leads to a more meandering piece that relies on context, and the continual spacey interludes seem more designed as album filler. However, for those with a love of R&S' golden age, cosmic disco and Juan Atkins, this is pure dynamite.
