John Graham was absolutely massive in the progressive house scene and trance explosion of the late 90’s and early 00’s. Under various pseudonyms (Tilt, Quivver, Space Manoeuvers, Stoneproof, Skanna), he recorded some all-time bangers, staples in the crates of Sasha and Digweed and perennials in the Global Underground series. I still value many of Graham’s 12” releases, chief among them Tilt’s “The Seduction of Orpheus” and Space Manoeuvers’ unavoidable “Stage One.” For a time, Graham could do no wrong; his productions were universally cherished, and he was constantly pushing the boundaries of sound. But then the trance boom went bust; magazines such as Musik and Ministry went out of business, and the once-ubiquitous green stick brigade was pushed once more to the underground, where it began to stagnate and radiate a slightly rancid sadness.

This scene was never album-driven; adult progressive house and trance fans turned to their local clubs for inspiration, where they attempted to read the bleached-out labels of the dj’s dubplates. Younger fans made do with festivals, raves and mixtapes. The 12” format ruled; artists churned these out by the truckload, and were known for the breakthrough success of individual tracks. Albums were meant for the mainstream, usually packed with filler, offering emaciated versions of club-fillers. Part of the problem was that the original track was seldom the preferred track; remixes were often produced and distributed within a week, while cd distribution took much longer.

One would think that after a decade, such liabilities would have been addressed, but this first Quivver album fails to move the scene forward in any discernible fashion. What we should have gotten was an eight to ten-track album of progressive eight-minute floorfillers; instead, we receive a half hour of ten short tracks, most of which end with a fade (an accompanying mix cd was not included for review, but apparently preserves the brevity). This might be okay for a singles market – and by singles, I mean pop radio – but it is unacceptable as a full-length production from an artist of this caliber.

After a strong beginning (a one-minute mood builder followed by the album’s strongest, and longest track, the 4:18 “Surin”), the disappointment really begins to set in. “Chasin’ a Feeling” visits the regrettable land of light drum ‘n’ bass, which is certainly no revelation and instead smacks of desperation. Later on, “Ghosts” exercises the same visa. “Cloudless” veers into Robert Miles territory. And the three 3:14 tracks that occupy the middle of the album (“Tick Tick,” “Two Notes ‘N’ a Beat” and “Dancing in Darkrooms”) seem like frustrated sexual partners, building passion but falling asleep before the moment of release. These tracks might work well in the middle of a set (insert own joke here) but fare poorly on their own. The bottom line: seek out the vinyl and leave the cd in the bin.

-Richard Allen