The definitive Bandcamp release of our 1999 album.

Some maintain it was this album that dragged Blue Flux out of comfortable obscurity by finally earning us some positive reviews. Which is true, but not the full story. The Beach was lucky enough to make friends with another ally on its original release in September 1999, namely: the internet. A strange beast which back then was far less profit-hungry, regimented, or polarised. Hence pioneering music platforms like mp3-dot-com appeared genuinely grateful that some trusting bands would actually choose to upload their cherished tracks. This sense of adventure readily infected many listeners as well, many of whom seemed quite happy to listen to entire albums, not just a few trending clips. Novelty? Certainly. But many fans also enjoyed their buzz from actively changing the future of music, and surely for the better.

Feel free to interpret that outcome at will. What remains incontestable however is that The Beach emerged at a momentous point in time. And made no bones about it, as the main theme of the album hopefully still communicates. As much in awe as cautiously critical of the looming new millennium. Surely there never was a better reason to musically let rip. And so we did.

A little recording history – please skip if nerd-averse: while computers were still clunky and DAWs known to ornithologists only, 1999 wasn’t the audio stone age you may believe. Even our studio already featured some trippy gear back then, including 8-track digital recorder, 32MB (!) sampler with SCSI drives (!!), cutting-edge synths, a stand-alone MIDI sequencer, stacks of effects, and DAT mastering. Decent capacitor mics had also become affordable – another reason maybe why this album sports a lot more vocals all of a sudden.

And yet, re-mastering these tracks in 2022 still felt like opening a time capsule. Luckily, no leaks. With much of our 1999 gear long since recycled responsibly, work was restricted to the stereo masters. But even they seemed to respond quite well to 21st century TLC. Despite some minor trims where needed and a fun-size injection of audio-steroids, each song pretty much kept its original identity. Much of the cover art showed its age though and thus required up-scaling, and rework. Finally, 1000 Years, the album’s genre-defining centrepiece, is presented here as a single 22-minute track to avoid the inevitable loss of continuity when streamed. For those interested, full timing details are provided in the song’s info pane.

A sign of its time it may well be. But some have since ventured that with subjects like identity, the environment, and gender stereotyping, The Beach somehow also touched down a little ahead of the curve. Which is the bit where the artist departs, muttering, “Well, that’s for you to judge.”