this is the second of two companion pieces (the first is Moby) to the article
"Ravers, DJs & the Art of the Audience" in _Option_ Issue 48 (Jan-Feb 1993),
on p.62:

PLANET TO PLANET: THE ORB

   In England, people don't go to see a band now", says Alex Paterson, the
turntable-whiz behind the Orb.  "They go to see a DJ.  Punk rock never lasted
five years, so that probably shows you the strength of dance music."

   More than anyone else, the Orb has taken dance music and turned the form on
its head, streched the notion so wide that it no longer necessarily includes
dance beats.  Try tapping your feet to either of the Orb's first two albums and
you'll discover that Alex paterson is more concerned with receating the
progressive rock of his youth than hitting the perfect beat.  With spacy
synthesizers churning for five, ten, up to 20 minutes behind chanting monks,
ringing phones and sampled TV chatter, Paterson's music is no different than
his club mixing: both are ambient house attempts to capture the feeling of
"Perpetual Dawn", as the title of an Orb song reads -- or "3 A.M. Eternal", as
his former collaborators the KLF put it.
   Until last year, Paterson was still doing DJ gigs at clubs, most often
spinning records in a "chill out" room at London's Land of Oz.  "I'm not going
out looking for big-time DJ spots anymore," he says.  "There's no need.  It's
all gone over the top now that the Orb's managed to get to the number one on
the [U.K.] album charts."
   It's not surprising that Paterson was once an A&R man at EG Records, home of
Brian Eno and birthplace of ambient music.  There, he learned that you can make
unobtrusive songs interesting.  But it took a trip to New York -- and visions
of something Eno-esque in Tony Humphry's dance mixes on KISS-FM -- to teach
Paterson that ambient music might be as appropriate on the dance floor as in
the home.  Years later, in 1989, he released his first album, the directionless
_Kiss EP_, in a limited edition of 1,000; it was never reissued.
   However, Paterson's two follow-up tracks created a buzz on the rave scene.
The 18-minute "A Huge Ever Growing Pulsating Brain That Rules From the Centre
of the Ultraworld" was a fusion of avant-Kraut electronics, Minnie Riperton and
Oxy 10 samples; "Little Fluffy Clouds" incorporated the voice of Rickie Lee
Jones waxing dreamy about her childhood into bubble beats, crowing roosters and
Ennio Morricone samples.  Both were included on the Orb's first American album,
_The Orb's Adventures Beyond the Ultraworld_, along with collaborations with
Brilliant bassist Guy Pratt and ex-Gong guitarist Steve Hillage.  The cover, an
altered photo of the four-stack power station last seen on Pink Floyd's
_Animals_, clued prospective buyers into what they were purchasing -- prog rock
with turntables, samplers, CD players, and Pet Shop Boys beats.  Few tracks on
the original British album clocked in at less than 10 minutes (though Mercury
slimmed the songs down for the domestic release).  "We've come back with real
bastardized dance music," says Paterson, "but we've come back with our own
version."
   The Orb's follow-up, _U.F.Orb_, takes the experiment further, discarding
more beats in favor of electronic noodling and experimentation.  It includes
sounds of prank phone calls to Haile Selassie, the Rasta godhead and former
Ethiopian emperor; discussions of Teilhard de Chardin's _noosphere_ (a
hypothetical "orb" of thought around the world); and samples of animal body
functions.  The highlight, perhaps, is "Tower of Dub", a 15-minute lesson in
collage that matches blues harmonica and heavy reggae guitar samples with
barking dogs, shimmering gongs, snippets from past Orb singles and dizzying
spatial effects.
   What makes Paterson, a former Killing Joke roadie, such an important
personality on the ambient/dance scene is that he's made it possible for DJs
to transcend themselves, to become autonomous artists; still dependent on other
people's records, but only as outlets for their own creativity.  Though
Paterson is not currently taking DJ gigs, he hasn't abandonded the artform.  "I
still see myself as a DJ," he says.  "The Orb has managed to incorporate a band
within a DJ structure and get away with it.  As opposed to the main body of a
group being a singer and a guitarist, the main body of our band is the DJ as
engineer.  It's just a different way of looking at things."
   Paterson has helped further enrich the DJ's standing as a musician, bringing
new blood to pop music, and twisting club culture with gems like the 40-minute
single "No Fun".  Most importantly, he has created a dance music designed for
listening.  "I use different ideas, as opposed to a musical idea," he says.  "I
use a strange noise idea.  Hopefully, that will give a lot of confidence to
anyone who listens to our stuff and thinks 'Well, cor, I wonder if we can do
that?'  All you gotta do is get some ideas and really weird noises and a
sampler -- which, believe me, is good fun."

  By Neil Strauss

---

from the "Reviews" column in _Option_ Issue 48 (Jan-Feb 1993)
album cover pictured on p.90, review on p.91:

* FORTRAN 5: Blues

Whiffing the same atmosphere as the Orb, but keeping their feet more firmly on
the dance floor for the madly happy "Love on the Line", then borrowing Cajun
stompmaster Dr. John for a stint on the deep-grooved "Look to the Future", this
techno-minded ensemble mixes as many musical styles as 120 BPM can comfortably
accomodate.  And some of those accompanying throaty, feminine voices sound
familiar, making the experience not just danceable, but somehow reassuring.
Almost entirely invigorating, Fortran 5 allows itself just a few insulting
experimental pieces here -- those dopey noise collages that end up on most
"dance" CDs as filler.  They're pretty, shiny, sometimes crispy noise collages,
but useless all the same.  Otherwise, the tracks either drag you to your feet
or evolve into Tangerine Dreamy space music clever enough to tingle.  A
powerful force to shape the future of club music-making, Fortran 5 debuts with
a remarkably superior, high replay-value CD.  The men in charge may swap out
the vocalist and change the samples, but expect this group to produce the next
wave of club stompers.  For now, _Blues_ stays in heavy rotation.
(Mute/Elektra)
 -- David Sears

---

from the "Reviews" column in _Option_ Issue 48 (Jan-Feb 1993)
album cover pictured on p.111, review on p.110:

* 777

Let's hear a big shout-out for new age house music.  Okay then, a polite
affirmation, at least.  A sticker on the jewel box for _777_ calls it
"Experiments in Deep-House grooves", but it sounds to me like Windham Hill with
a beat.  It's a collaboration between "some of house and techno's premier
mixers, producers and musicians", including Steve Hillage (!), Alex Paterson of
the Orb and Paul Oakenfold.  If those names mean nothing to you, you can learn
a lot by reading song titles:  "Sunburst", "Depth Disco", "Fractal Liaison",
like that.  You get the fast beats and squiggly synth sounds of techno but also
atmospheric surges looming across the beats, whether from an oceanic synth
wash, a meandering electric guitar or a moaning Indian voice.  Does it work on
the dance floor?  I haven't heard it there, but I do know it makes for nicely
aggressive background music: I'm writing this on my back porch on a lovely
afternoon in late October, and the clink of my neighbor's dog's tags together
with the wail of a distant ambulence blend perfectly into a clattering cut
called "Altitude".  But it's still background music.  (Caroline, 114 W. 26th
St, NYC 10013)
 -- Eddie Huffman