Not all "space music" is comprised of straight electronic pieces. Sometimes, the limitless void can be evoked with more traditional instruments with styles rooted in less technologically obsessed genres.

For many years, the independent label of Cuneiform Records has been releasing music that stands firmly in truly esoteric ground: progressive jazz, modern fusion, and even some electronic music. Some of them display a side of "space" that is quite refreshing for its unexpected influence.

Keyboards and percussion match wits with saxophones, clarinet, cellos and recorders. Rumbling basslines cement it all together into an astral form of chamber music, complex in structure and rich with pondering melodies. The pace alternates from pensive to frantic, in typical classic compositional style.

That's Orion Sound Studios in Maryland -- an earthly point of origin for this strong live performance from 1998.

Djam Karet have attracted considerable attention for their intellectual guitar-driven fusion of progressive music and power rock. This 75-minute live release draws upon material from several of their albums and includes a wondrous 14-minute improv piece that exemplifies the band's predilection for expansive structure.

Guitars—strummed, carefully picked, scorched and tortured. Guitars weaving riffs from all directions, eclectically layered to produce ecstatic peaks and soaring melodies. Add growling bass and hyperactive dominance drums. Some keyboards, but the real emphasis is upon the interplay of brilliant guitarwork. No vocals.

There exists a strong cosmic sense to Djam Karet's sound. Their tunes cavort in a free-fall environment, contorting against a backdrop of twinkling darkness. Attention gripping music, the performance is glorious with an art-rock intensity.

A guitar/drums/bass trio, Forever Einstein has a strong fascination for quirky rock-based instrumental tunes that possess an elevated degree of smarts without being snobbish. Fun-time for intelligentsia. (As evidenced by the fact that all the song titles are long sentences, like: "Maybe spending the rest of your life in a madhouse will teach you some manners".)

There is a fairly frantic pace to most of these tunes. Intricate guitar riffs wind around durable drumming, with smooth basslines lurking in the mix. Even the more sedate pieces possess a peppy liveliness.

It's a concept album, deriving cohesion in being a study of a near-century of popular music indigenous to American culture. Forever Einstein have melted together riffs (good and bad) absorbed from soundtracks, TV shows, video games, the circus, and 1960s beach party movies, producing a wild hybrid of tuneage that blends these sentiments with a variety of influences (King Crimson, Henry Mancini, Nino Rota, European folk music and American popular culture). Get ready for 67 minutes of progressive rock strangeness, a perfect soundscape for eyebrow waggling.

Delightful electronics spill forth like a waterfall of twinkling stars, keyboard riffs layering into lush melodies. Particular to Frohmader's style is his tendency to employ a balance of both sparkling tones and dense intensity. A rarely languid backbeat churns it all along, stirring the music to a greater appeal. There is a sense of cosmic majesty that seethes in the music on this 76-minute CD. Vibrant pieces, rich with intricate keyboard passages, conjure an urgency with their tenacious mood. A lively edge exudes from this tuneage, complimented by a wide range of tonalities and sampled instruments. There's a strong melodic sense going on that bears no comparison to ambient electronics.

And just when things reach a frenzied peak, weirdness breaks out, only to have itself sucked into the surging rhythm.

Frohmader has been producing classy releases of dense, moody electronics for years. Pinhas' career stretches back to the early '70s as an electronic maestro, leader of the legendary band Heldon, and one of the best guitarists alive. Hearing these two collaborate should be a occasion of nirvana -- and it is.

Nothing laid-back here, all teeth and claws exposed on this 72-minute CD. Viciously whirling guitar growls like a horde of distant dinosaurs. Serpentine electronics slither through the mix, bristling with eerie auras and haunted tendencies. The locomotive brawn of E-perc has an oddly fuzzy surface to the sound (fuzzy as in hairy, not feedbacked).

Instrumental pieces, oozing with arcane mood; a perfect soundtrack for contemplating the generation of prehistoric fossils. One piece is interesting for the presence of a dance beat that struggles to creep into prominence but is constantly restrained to the background. Entrancing melodies of a pre-tribal nature -- very bestial.

On this older release, Frohmader's style bears a darker imprint, tinting the lively electronic melodies with ominous tones and an almost threatening grandeur.

Commanding keyboards, energetic synthetic percussion and strange noises are still his sonic brushes for this 67-minute journey into the more menacing regions of space. A pair of 20+ minute tracks afford the melodies time to grow and mutate.

Sense of epic proportion: very key.

Quality of dynamics: extremely prominent.

RealAudio samples:

Despite the strong presence of sweeping keyboards, this music can be considered modern classical. Although orchestration does appear, the instrumentation is generally electronic keyboards or traditional piano, flowing and quite melodic.

Very serious intentions prevail among the compositions on this 54-minute CD: contemplative, perplexed and bent in careful rumination. Although the tone of the music rarely exhibits exultation, the mood is hardly gloomy, treading a fine line between studious and expansive. An image is conjured of wild-haired young professionals hunched over telescopes and desks littered with mathematical equations.

Breaking ground as an avant-garde progressive jazz ensemble in the late '60s and early '70s, Soft Machine created a sound unique to themselves, often copied but rarely matched. The vibes they generated were integral in establishing the Canterbury Scene in England. Each member of Soft Machine has gone on to carve their own signature sound over the last three decades.

But -- back at the beginning -- their music was often too weird for the public. The "Spaced" composition was created for a dance performance at the Roundhouse in London in 1969. While ballet dancers and ex-army gymnasts cavorted about a geodesic structure of construction scaffolding, pre-recorded tapes played with music Soft Machine had produced weeks before the multimedia event. Until recently, these recordings remained unreleased -- a sought-after rarity among Soft Machine's vast following.

This 67-minute CD finally presents the music for all to experience. Hugh Hopper's bass growls like a monstrous thunder lizard, weaving riffs through the atmospheric mesh. Robert Wyatt's exquisite percussion is in prime form, whether fluttering in cacophonic mode or laying out a sinuously steady beat. Mike Ratledge's electric piano and organ spill droning tones and sweeping chords. Blend it all together in a seething mass that oozes with freeform expression. Now apply a host of studio effects that rival modern technology.