|   Let us posit a guy. For the sake of argument, 
                  we will assume this guy lives in Slovenia. Slovenia. 
                  Just above Italy. No, you’re thinking of Slovakia. That’s on 
                  the other side of Austria and Hungary. Slovenia is right on 
                  the northeastern Italian border. 
                No, I have no idea where it came from. I assume it was one 
                  of those countries that just sort of popped up out of nowhere 
                  during the 90s. We had the stock market boom; Europe had countries 
                  popping up willy-nilly. 
                Look, it’s not important. Or maybe it is. I don’t really know 
                  how important it is, it’s just that for the sake of our little 
                  experiment here we’re going to need to imagine a man living 
                  in Slovenia. His name is Ales. No, with an ess, not an ex. I 
                  don’t know. He didn’t mention a last name. Wait, there’s a poorly 
                  translated review on his website that says his last name is Uratnik. 
                  So, it’s Ales Uratnik. Are we good through this point? Right, 
                  a guy named Ales Uratnik who lives in Slovenia. 
                Good. This is where it gets weird. –er. Weird-er. 
                Let’s say Ales is in Slovenia, and he’s a musician. (For kicks 
                  we can say he’s a graphic designer as well, but we’re not even 
                  going to try to flush that bit out today.) He’s a Slovenian 
                  musician. He was in bands all throughout the 90s. Metal bands. 
                  Thrash metal. Okay, you’re going to have to work with me here. 
                  Thrash metal was a lot bigger in central Europe than it was 
                  in the States. Ales’ band actually played a gig with Motorhead. 
                  I don’t care what part of Western Civilization you’re living 
                  in; playing with Lemmy is pretty goddamned cool. Ales’ band 
                  was booked to play with Fugazi too, but there was some drama 
                  involving the bassist and they had to cancel that. They were, 
                  apparently, a very good Slovenian thrash metal band. 
                I can’t say for certain how good they were, because I’ve never 
                  actually heard bad Slovenian thrash metal, much less 
                  good Slovenian thrash metal. And to top it all off, I’ve 
                  never heard anything by Ales’ particular Slovenian thrash metal 
                  band either, so I really have no clue. But they fucking played 
                  with Motorhead, so there must be something there, right? 
                Okay, we’re getting off track. This is all setup. Ales doesn’t 
                  even play thrash metal any more. No, that was the past. He used 
                  to play thrash metal, but that was so 1995, okay? Now he’s an 
                  electronic musician. Right. It plays in with the whole graphic 
                  designer bit, if you see the connection. Computers. It’s all 
                  about computers. 
                Okay, so our guy Ales, former thrash metal champ and graduate 
                  of the Lemmy Kilmister school of kick-ass, is now making electronica. 
                  In Slovenia. Right. I told you it was going to get weirder. 
                  Now here’s the kicker: 
                He sent us a promo. 
                God, the internet so fucking rocks! We got a promo, from a 
                  former Slovenian thrash metal guy currently releasing D.I.Y. 
                  electronica out of said country, all because we put this silly 
                  little site up a few years ago. How fucking cool is that?! This 
                  promo is called Pilotinstaller. It comes with 
                  a graphics executable too. 
                Okay, maybe I’m more excited about things like this than you, 
                  the reader, might be. But geez! I’m getting mail from countries 
                  I have to look up on Mapquest. That just giggles me to no end. 
                  And to just ice the cake perfectly, the music is actually pretty 
                  damned interesting. Now, fair warning requires that I point 
                  out that “interesting” does not necessarily equate with “poppy”, 
                  “melodic” or “easy to dance to”, though elements of the disc 
                  can be described with any of those words except “poppy.” Of 
                  course, the album also includes live flute performances. And 
                  improvised vocal arrangements by people named Polona Dovzan 
                  and Darja Drobnic. I think I once played a dwarven fighter named 
                  Drobnic, but I digress. 
                On the whole it is, how to say… otherwise. It’s not what I’d 
                  call drone. It’s not what I’d call IDM. It’s not really what 
                  I’d call electronica or techno. I don’t know what to call it, 
                  really. Maybe we should just call it Slovenian, addendum that 
                  it is good and interesting, and leave it at that. 
                But if we did that we would be failing to mention the Dismemberment 
                  Plan cover. And we really should mention the Dismemberment Plan 
                  cover. Because, you know, it’s there, on the album. Track 10. 
                  What Do You Want Me To Say? From Emergency and 
                  I. And it provides a familiar, if also completely alien, 
                  bridge by which to span the gap from wherever you are to Slovenia. 
                  So we really should mention the Dismemberment Plan cover. 
                So this is what we’re positing here. A Slovenian guy named 
                  Ales Uratnik, formerly of Slovenian thrash metal band that played 
                  with Motorhead, currently making electronica that defies convenient 
                  classification; that defies even my usually convenient centrifuge 
                  analogies. That’s what we’re dealing with. Track two opens 
                  with a pretty plucked, almost-classical guitar riff. Track 10 
                  is an eye-opening cover of a D-Plan song. Track 11 doesn’t sound 
                  completely unlike an update of The Scorpions. You may take it 
                  from here. 
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