Native Radio – Chiba City Blues

Native Radio’s debut Chiba City Blues is a sleek and refined album with a minimal aesthetic. The attention to detail is impressive: each sound is measured and arranged with extreme care, leaving nothing to chance. This is German engineering at its finest, comparable to the products of an elite selection of artists that includes Noma, Tarsis, Segment, Bitmonx, and Haldolium. Native Radio’s style is reserved, balanced, and intelligent—versatile enough to suit the daylight hours as well as the heart of night. Every song on Chiba City Blues flows like a shimmering stream of liquid chrome, cruising along at the sedate pace of 137 BPM or below.

The first song (and title track) Chiba City Blues has been named for the opening chapter of William Gibson’s seminal work of cyberpunk: Neuromancer. The title was chosen for good reason, as the mood of this song is every bit as cold, remote, and menacing as the novel. A massive thematic introduction sets the mood; Space Age atmospheres sweep across the sound field as in a vivid waking dream. Heavy mechanical rhythms form a slow and steady groove after the minutes pass; thus begins a deliberately gradual progression towards the spectral peak of this stunning tech noir fairy tale. Plunging into the vacuum of the breakdown a strong sense of awe and mystery becomes manifest. This is simply magnificent!

The body of the album blends together, individual tracks marked only by slight differences in the basic rhythmic approach or their distinguishing samples in most cases. Gollum chugs along with a deep pulsing bass line and an expansive cinematic feel. Voices from Tolkien’s creature are used to good effect. Flatline has more of a groove than the rest. Drifting atmospheres serenely glide across the intricate beat of the synthetic drums. Extrem Gefährliches Halbwisse contrasts harder rhythms with light tribal drums and no more than an elusive trace of an elegant atmospheric lead. Samples from The Matrix are superfluous on this piece, but they become more intrusive on Quersumme. Now the pressure is rising, as Native Radio throw down a fat kicking rhythm topped by a catchy, menacing, and memorable theme. Unfortunately the flow is somewhat marred by Neo’s “digital scream” close to the end. Otherwise, it’s a very good track. Jonny G. is very subtle, returning to the essence of the minimal approach. Pulsing beats hypnotize, seldom shifting very quickly, or at all. This one is a bit dull.

Kubus breaks the spell with a strong orchestral presence lifted from the movie Requiem For A Dream. Spoken samples of Darth Maul from Star Wars: Episode One make this somewhat confusing, however. The beats themselves are essentially unremarkable, but the overt melodic qualities of this piece make it stand out from the rest. Kubus is the token anthem of the album. Cyberfish brings it to a sedate finish with an easygoing downtempo exposition. Surging cinematic sounds give this the feel of a film score. It makes for a stirring finale.

Chiba City Blues is one of the more noteworthy albums composed in the minimal style of psychedelic trance. There are a few problems with the release, which I will cover before addressing Native Radio’s strengths. The overt presence of Hollywood movie samples diminishes the artistic credibility of the piece—sometimes drastically, as on Quersumme. Given how serious the music is, such samples seem terribly tacky and out of place. Aside from that, my only complaint is that they aren’t all as good as the title track. The album promises such great things but the journey does not deliver after beginning on such a high note. That being said, Chiba City Blues still makes for worthwhile listening. Few albums explore similar territory in such a consistent fashion. For those listeners seeking deeply sublime, haunting, and fashionably minimal psychedelic trance, Native Radio’s debut will surely satisfy.