With Voyage, Schiller combines the elation and clarity of Chicane, Banco de Gaia, and German trance with the low-key tenor of major-label new age. The music is largely painted with rich hypercolor, lots of fertile blues and jades, but stacked with vocalists who, like Kim Sanders in the pop-leaning "Dancing With Loneliness," tend to weigh down the plush ideals of the band's not unpleasant energies. When the instrumentals take precedence, Schiller reasserts itself as a self-important electronic act that really should be nothing else. "Solitude," and in fact much of the album, may as well be Enigma's "Sadeness" with island trimmings instead of Gregorian frost.

The act with the first arena-sized sound in the electronica movement, the Chemical Brothers united such varying influences as Public Enemy, Cabaret Voltaire, and My Bloody Valentine to create a dance-rock-rap fusion which rivaled the best old-school DJs on their own terms – keeping a crowd of people on the floor by working through any number of groove-oriented styles featuring unmissable samples, from familiar guitar riffs to vocal tags to various sound effects. And when the duo (Tom Rowlands and Ed Simons) decided to supplement their DJ careers by turning their bedrooms into recording studios, they pioneered a style of music (later termed big beat) remarkable for its lack of energy loss from the dancefloor to the radio. Chemical Brothers albums were less collections of songs and more hour-long journeys, chock-full of deep bomb-studded beats, percussive breakdowns, and effects borrowed from a host of sources. All in all, the duo proved one of the few exceptions to the rule that intelligent dance music could never be bombastic or truly satisfying to the seasoned rock fan; it's hardly surprising that they were one of the few dance acts to enjoy simultaneous success in the British/American mainstream and in critical quarters.