Robert Miles
23am

I have always wondered what went through the mind of Roberto Concina, better known as Robert Miles, after the release of his debut Dreamland, which earned him gold and platinum records across Europe and the impressive figure of fourteen million copies sold worldwide.

Perhaps it was the desire to shake off the label of producing famous dance tracks or the possibility, guaranteed by achieved economic tranquility, to freely experiment with the most varied musical solutions. It's difficult to lean towards one hypothesis over the other, especially since the Swiss DJ passed away in 2017 at just 46 years old (he lived in Ibiza, where he had founded the radio station Open Lab) and won't be able to provide a comprehensive answer to our questions.

Let's then content ourselves with the facts and especially with the gap that separates the successful debut from the subsequent 23am, released only a year and a half later yet so different from its predecessor.

Those expecting a replication of the dreamy trance of “Fable” and “Children” were indeed disappointed, because in this work, created between the end of '96 and the first half of '97, Robert chose to delve into other sound universes, ranging from extended ambient to chill-out, through drum and bass, field recordings captured during the Dreamland tour, and sometimes daring attempts to blend electronic sounds with live instrumentation.

This latter aspect, together with the presence of evocative atmospheres, is perhaps the only common thread with the past; otherwise, nothing remains of the beats and high bpm typical of the genre, except for the single “Full Moon”, which is actually closer to progressive house by Leftfield than to the dreamy soundscapes of the first album.

The mix of elements in 23am (a nonsense, since the English time system is divided into two twelve-hour cycles and not twenty-four) is undoubtedly intriguing and is enriched by a conceptual structure full of references to life, death, and the necessity of rebirth, in addition to being imbued with a certain spirituality (“Invisible energy provides the key to global understanding”, says Barbara Prunas in “A New Flower”) and positivity (it's impossible not to notice that “In the new day that’s coming/Freedom for all is our destiny” sung by the legendary Kathy Sledge in “Freedom”). The problem is that not everything seems to go the right way, and several times, during the sixty minutes of total duration, something will make the more attentive listeners wrinkle their noses.

Already after the suspended intro and the subsequent “A New Flower”, characterized by a guitar arpeggio overlapping synthetic layers, the total lack of drums and the extended structure of the compositions risk becoming heavily boring, giving the impression that 23am stumbles a bit and struggles to find the right gear. These feelings are confirmed by “Everyday Life”, a track all in all successful, but made verbose by some ambient interludes that make it interminable (ten minutes are really too many).

The sophomore album of the Swiss producer revives in its central part, thanks to a convincing strong trio: the aforementioned “Freedom”, strong with the feature of Kathy Sledge and a refrain with sure radio appeal; “Textures”, where the piano melodies, though not irresistible, intertwine excellently with the breakbeat of the base; and then “Enjoy”, which doesn't stand out for the originality of the text (“Enjoy what you feel/That’s all that is real/Enjoy what you feel inside” and “If you want to live your life/Live your life in joy” are not really the best), but is distinguished by the good vibe and the winks at acid-jazz, also guaranteed by the black voice of miss Sledge, in her second positive performance.

The level drops again in the following instrumental tracks, compromised by uninspiring synthesizers (“Flying Away”), but especially by the poorly executed addition of string and wind instruments, which, far from harmonizing with the rest, end up overwhelming it excessively, almost going out of time. It's a shame because the drum and bass of “Heatwave” and “Maresias” is not bad at all and recalls that of contemporary artists like Omni Trio.

The beats increase in “Full Moon”, another track sung but with a darker, more nocturnal mood, suitable for a dedication to the moon and its mysterious energy ("Full moon, goddess of dreamers/Failed saints, and unbelievers/Full moon, lighting my way in the dark/I’ll follow you, over the wastelands of the heart”). And many will wonder what an LP with more club-oriented sounds would have been like, probably better, though we aren't to know.

The conclusion of “Leaving Behind…” underscores one of the thematic cores of the work, that is, the need to leave the past behind and look forward, towards the future (“Leaving behind/Without regrets but pleasant memories/What once was/We walk towards tomorrow, free”). However, one might wonder how much this effort cost in terms of sales and credibility because 23am, while not bad from a compositional point of view, is an uneven album that disappointed not only early fans but also the “electrophiles” audience Robert aimed at. A real flop, in short, which drove him to part ways with his record label and to found his own label, S:alt Records, for which he created challenging and even more experimental projects, depicting an artist in continuous search of a musical identity, probably never found.

The rest is a sad story, yet what remains is the courageous attempt to go beyond simple hits, questioning especially himself, as in the nice cover photo. A risky choice, counterproductive in certain ways, which finds in 23am an ultimately fascinating realization, though not without some flaws.