Orbital
In Sides

Introducing the Hartnoll brothers excessively is unnecessary. Bursting onto the scene in 1990 with "Chime" and never letting up for a moment. Alongside the Orb and the Madchester Sound, they proudly heralded the nineties in the spirit of rave culture. Once the rules of Kraftwerk were learned, many DJs experimented in their rooms with samples and "machine drums." This duo creates sublime celestial environments, just listen to the remix of "It's A Fine Day" by Opus III ("Halcyon"), but also industrial cybernetic sequences like "Satan." "Belfast," with those vocals that will set a standard in acid house, is another hit that already consecrated them in 1991.

Explosive debut with "Green," a great follow-up with "Orbital 2" and commercial success in 1994 with "Snivilisation." Up to this point, there are no frivolities from the duo, and the sound proves to be compact and linear. The tracks outline lunar landscapes thanks to clear, celestial, and ethereal sounds. One reaches a state of hypnosis without the "filmography" of the Orb but achieving an anesthetizing trance. They transcend genres and fashions; they are much more than simple techno. They are a surreal landscape descending to earth.

1996. The fourth album arrives at a crucial moment for the band. Better not to fail, after all, no misstep yet. The initial climax is terrifying. "The Girl With The Sun In Her Head" is spectacular, with a penetrating bass and exceptional arpeggios in the air. The sonic narrative extends for over five minutes, paralyzing our mind. One quickly becomes addicted to "In Sides," an album of remarkable level played by two top artists. The duo has reached great experience and maturity. They are versatile and in step with the times.

The infernal metric of "P.E.T.R.O.L." immediately dampens the otherworldliness of the intro. There is no "stop" in the composition, and one quickly reaches the peak of the album. "The Box." Masterpiece of both track and video. Pounding piano chimes on a state of vulnerable anxiety. One is sucked into the interlocking sounds of this industrial symphony. Nothing more avant-garde for the time and an excellent example of how you don't need a thousand drum'n'bass beats to make the sound's voice "move." Yes, because it's inevitable; one is totally shaken by the roar of Orbital.

"Out There Somewhere" is the last track of the golden period; after that, we have "The Middle Of Nowhere," which picks up some ambitions already shown in "Snivilisation" and a general softening, overshadowed by samples and "sound fictions" (the lengthy "Attached"). The aforementioned song still has something to say. There are two parts, and the first is entirely overwhelming. The thundering keyboards create dissonances and dark atmospheres. As always, there are variations of the second theme and relaxing, reflective moments. There are no right syntaxes for Orbital, but there are ears, perhaps.