On the rare occasions that Ultramarine’s story is told, the duo’s fifth album, 1998’s A User’s Guide, tends to get omitted from the narrative. Radically different to anything the duo released before or since, it has remained a slept-on, timeless and inherently futurist classic ever since.
Unavailable on vinyl since the year it was released – in part because the label it originally came out on, New Electronica, folded shortly afterwards – A User’s Guide was the result of a conscious decision by Ultramarine members Paul Hammond and Ian Cooper to change their working methods and the “sound palette” that underpinned their work.
Out went the partially improvised hybrid electronic/acoustic sounds and the collaborations with guest musicians they’d become famous for. They were replaced by painstakingly created electronic sounds and textures, metallic motifs, spaced-out chords, rhythms rooted in contemporary techno and drum & bass culture, and nods aplenty to pioneering music of the period, from the post-rock atmospherics of Tortoise, and the hazy dub techno of Basic Channel, to the tech-jazz of Detroit, the minimalism of Berlin, and the musically expansive warmth of Chicago deep house.
It may have taken a year to create – part of which was spent developing this head-spinning new sound – but the results were undeniably unearthly and effortlessly forward-thinking. Over a quarter of a century may have passed since it first appeared in record stores, but A User’s Guide still sounds fresh and modern – a remarkable achievement given the relatively sparse and basic equipment used in the making of the album.
As this first vinyl reissue conclusively proves, the material showcased on A User’s Guide has lost none of its sparkle in the 26 years that have passed since its release. For proof, check the head-nodding IDM bubbliness of opener ‘All of a Sudden’, the queasy, lopsided tech-jazz of ‘Sucker For You’, the locked-in beats and mind-mangling motifs of ‘Zombie’, the ghostly, out-there electro of ‘Ambush’, the Autechre-esque ‘Ghost RouWne’ and the triumphant closing cut ‘What Machines Want’, a classic of minimalisWc, jazz-flecked techno futurism.