In 1993, the NME journalist Ben Willmott coined the term “Intelligent Dance Music”. Nowadays commonly shortened to the acronym IDM, this was his own twist on the “Intelligent Techno” tag that was being bandied about in the wake of Warp Records’ series of Artificial Intelligence compilations. These were albums that collected work by electronic artists such as Aphex Twin, Autechre, Black Dog, F.U.S.E., and Speedy J. The music they contained was marketed more as listening for after, rather than in, the club, and the sleeve notes for the first volume bore the legend: “Are you sitting comfortably? Artificial Intelligence is for long journeys, quiet nights and club drowsy dawns. Listen with an open mind.”* It was then Richard D. James and Grant Wilson-Claridge, of Rephlex Records, who came up with “Braindance” as a very likely tongue-in-cheek alternative. In 2001, they cemented this with a 10th anniversary compilation, a roster round-up, that featured folks such as Luke Vibert, Squarepusher, µ-Ziq, Leila, Cylob, and Bochum Welt. Frankfurt-based label, Die Orakel now celebrate their own 10th anniversary with a 15-track tribute album. Allowing contemporary artists a modern take on the classic, yet diverse, Braindance sound.

Teatre’s Daze is dynamite downtempo, moody, broody, Mo Max meets Eevo Lute, trip hop techno. With a muted, sustained tone melody massaging slow but bruising beats, it’s cut from similar sonic cloth as releases on Carl Craig’s revolutionary Retroactive imprint, such as those by Urban Tribe, and his own Suspiria. Mirroring Max 404’s former Cafe del Mar favourite, Quiddity.

O-Wells’ Deep Concentration pits a trio of circling plaintive piano notes against broken beats. A bit of boisterous, for “intelligent” read introspective, back spun and stuttered abstract funk theory, its bottom-end is a room-shaking boom.

Poly Chain’s Turbulent pretty spinning sequences produce spiralling counterpoint that echoes Black Dog / Plaid’s intricate computerised clockwork. Rocked by TR-808 snares, it’s robotic, but romantic.

Koloah’s The Highway has its drums shifted, shuffled, as if by a juggling DJ. An excellent electro joint, with added TB-303 jive, it don’s a ringer for the groovy gear that Clair Poulton and Hal Udell’s imprint Clear used to indulge in. Squelchy, synthesised bionic b-boy boogie business for breaking out the lino and power moves.

Edward’s Blurry Trees And Peanuts is perhaps the most straight-up homage to stuff like Aphex Twin’s seminal Selected Ambient Works Volume 1. Only with more polish. There’s no tape hiss, or the whir and ping of a bedsit microwave oven. It effortlessly, sort of innocently, dances about. Busy with its breakbeat, incredibly urgent, but somehow simultaneously tranquil and calm. A loving salute, its loops constantly evolve. Not locked but alive. Any regular, repetitive rhythm disturbed by drum rolls and delays. Its multilayered melodies mix those buried deep, like a shared secret, and glacial Sci-Fi strings. The latter recalling such landmarks as Larry Heard’s Alien and Mayday’s Icon.

You can purchase Die Orakel’s Braindance comp directly from Bandcamp.

*My friends and I made no distinction. It was all just Techno.