Groove Armada - Goodbye Country (Hello Nightclub)

Jive Electro: 2001

This may technically be Groove Armada's best charting album, but I contend it remains one of their most neglected, if not outright forgotten. Granted, that mostly only applies to North America, but I tells it as I remembers it, which comes with all the localized biases. It isn't so much a case of the music being bad or anything, though the deeper, soulful tunes didn't help it stand out after the peppier breakouts from Vertigo got their name out there. No, it's almost certainly due to the fact it came out the day before 9/11, after which the whole world went into a depressive, paranoid funk. Kinda' hard to get hype to club music after that.

Tom and Andy said they wanted Goodbye Country (Hello Nightclub) to be more upbeat than their previous effort. Can't say I blame them, so quickly getting pigeon-holed into the chill-out scene when their music was getting all the licensing deals. And when Superstylin' dropped, that change of focus seemed evident, the track something of a riff on Bassment Jaxx' brand of radio-friendly speed garage (da' yoots today would call this 'ragga bassline', or something). Now that I've listened to this record, however, it almost feels like an appropriate comedown to post-Millenial malaise.

This rest of this album, it's just so de-e-e-p, man, hardly the rabble-rousing hedonism promised. Fogma, the clubbiest cut on here, certainly has some funky shuffle going for it, but there's something rather... prog, about its production too, y'know? Raisin' The Stakes opts for some street-level funk-n-hop (Nile Rogers on the guitar, Kriminul on the rap), but it ain't super-hype either. Healing is another 'brisker-than-average' cut, but it's so minimalist, dubby, and de-e-e-p, you'd be forgiven for thinking it an early Swayzak b-side. And that's it for the 'club'. Well, and the opulent funk opener Suntoucher with Jeru Tha Damaja, but even that track settles into a deep, dubby groove two-thirds in (Drifted less so, which I kinda' prefer). So, graciously, six out of twelve tracks, and I'd really only claim three.

Not that I'm disparaging this album for false advertising or something ridiculous like that. If anything, Groove Armada still came correct for what their fanbase expected of them: more soulful, downtempo music, this time with heavier emphasis on the dubbier aspects of it. There's still moments for pastoral arrangements (Litttle By Little, Lazy Moon, Edge Hill) and funkier jams (Drifted, Tuning In (Dub Mix)), all performed in a classier, smoother fashion than similar sounds on Vertigo. Unfortunately, it also doesn't leave quite the same impression for the same reason all highly-competently produced music of this sort does, getting a little lost in the ability to make it over keeping things simple and to the point.

For that reason, I can understand why Goodbye Country (Hello Nightclub) just doesn't get the same name-drops that Vertigo and even later albums do. Or maybe it really is that stupid 9/11 conspiracy after all. If its any consolation, I'm writing this on the eve of potentially saying goodbye to that country altogether!

Groove Armada - Lovebox

Jive Electro: 2002

This may be Groove Armada's fourth album, but I always think it's their second. Once again, I blame my Canadian exposure to the band Andy Cato and Tom Findlay built. Their first album, Northern Star, was a non-entity in my hemisphere of the globe, such that we all figured Vertigo was their debut (only the Brits knew better anyway). And while Goodbye Country (Hello Nightclub) was the hotly anticipated follow-up to Vertigo, I can't say it made much of an impression in these here parts, for two reasons. One, the cover-art was kinda' drab, a homely thing that looked more like any dozen of chill-out compilations floating about at the time (reminds me of something off Late Night Tales), thus easily lost on store shelves. Two, the album had the unfortunate timing to be released on September 10, 2001. Uh, yeah, North American folks were gonna' be a tad more preoccupied than scoping out a new Groove Armada record.

Lovebox though, there was no missing that, what with it's big neon artwork against a stark black backdrop, released a year after most nations had regathered their wits. The quick turnaround into another LP caught many off guard, figuring the Armada lads would have wanted their Goodbye Country material to gestate a little longer. On the other hand, with I See You Baby and At The River still getting more airplay than anything in their current discography, it wouldn't surprise me if Misters Cato and Findlay were hit with a surge of inspiration to make music as far removed from those tunes as quickly as possible. Even they had to be tired of hearing about sandy dunes and salty air.

Aside from hot neon colours, you know what else was creeping into clubland around this time? Good ol' fashion 'rawk', the sort of drunken, rowdy business new wavers so often indulged in Back In The Day. Disco punk was peeking its head outside of New York City enclaves, and there was something irresistibly trashy about this new-fangled 'electro-house' biz'. Groove Armada must have noticed these underground developments, as Lovebox features some of the rockiest dance music I've heard from the year 2002 (very small sample size).

Like, there's no denying where their heads are at opening an album with a song called Purple Haze. It's a suitably heavy, thumping groover that doesn't sully the Hendrix song at all, while Groove Is On gets more on that funk action for your all-night festivities. And if those weren't enough to let your hair down, Madder is a fun head-banger tune. Then there's some obligatory house jams (Final Shakedown going a little garage, Easy going a little disco, Lovebox going a little deep, and But I Feel Good going a little ...reggae?), and some soulful downtempo cuts too. Oh, and Remember reminds us that, yes, if Groove Armada wanted to keep rehashing At The River forever after, they could easily do so with skill and finesse. They just, like, don't want to, that's all.

Groove Armada - Vertigo

Jive Electro: 1999/2000

I already mentioned Vertigo is the only Groove Armada album you’ll likely have, even if you’re not a Groove Armada fan, back when I reviewed The Remixes. That’s only true of American interests though, the duo enjoying plenty of sales numbers for follow-up LPs Goodbye Country (Hello Nightclub) and Lovebox. And despite a half-decade gap, Soundboy Rock did reasonably well in the UK, but it was clear their fame abroad was diminishing. A new wave rebranding for 2010’s Black Light generated a little sustained buzz, and perhaps they could have kept that going if trends weren’t so darn fickle in the world of club music. Instead, they’ve recently opted for that safest of fallbacks all producers succumb to, deeeeeeep house. Ah well, at least there’s precedent in their discography for it.

Vertigo always strikes me as the sort of album that shouldn’t have had much of a hope at gaining Platinum sales status, yet was destined for it regardless. The big singles off here were so ubiquitous in turn-of-the-century advertising, Groove Armada couldn’t help but generate bank from it, though I only heard Fatboy Slim’s rub of I See You Baby on this side of the pond. Still, the summery feel-good vibes of If Everybody Looked The Same and chilled bliss of At The River (mmm, sandy dunes and salty air) make for swell soundtracks accompanying visuals of beautiful people driving beautiful cars in beautiful locales. Instead, we got Moby.

The rest of Vertigo though, how does that hold up? Like, this is mostly an acid jazz record, right? It’s got those funky, groovy rhythms that isn’t quite house music (Chicago, Pre 63, Serve Chilled), ample amounts of jazzy instruments played as laid-back loops or in studio (orchestral swells in Whatever, Whenever, trumpet in Dusk You And Me, turntable scratches and Balearic guitar action in A Private Interlude), and hard-stomp soul (Your Song). There’s also some straight-up house action with In My Bones, plus the original I See You Baby cut, even if it is kind of a plodder. And for a closer, Groove Armada dabble in an eight-minute long trip-hop excursion titled Inside My Mind (Blue Skies) …at least, if you got the UK version of Vertigo. Fatboy Slim’s rub of I See You Baby was so popular though, it got tagged onto the end of American copies, which suits me fine. Ends the album on quite the peppy note, it does.

But these are all loose demarcations. At this point in their career, Groove Armada’s appeal lay in their blending of familiar genres into tasty morsels that played nicely on the radio. Whatever edgy, underground influences Misters Cato and Findlay held, they’re smoothed right the fuck out here - small wonder their recent, straight-forward attempts at new wave and d-e-e-e-ep house haven’t caught on in the same way. Still, if all you’re after is some light dabbling in chilled-out funk and soul while lounging on your patio, then you probably already have Vertigo in your folders anyway.

Groove Armada - The Remixes

Jive Electro: 1999/2000

I'm sure taking my sweet time in tackling a proper Groove Armada album, aren't I? First it was that DJ mix provided by Muzik Magazine as a freebie CD, and now it's a remix collection. Bro, do I not even like Groove Armada, bro? I ask myself that often, always coming to the same answer of a bewildered “I don't know.” I think I like Groove Armada, pretty sure they've never led me astray in the odd times I've dabbled their discography. Hell, I have The Remixes, the sort of release only hardcore fans ever bother with. I don't remember why I got this – I assume because I liked what I heard, enough that it survived the Great CD Pawning Of 2002. And yet, I lack so many of their LPs, only grabbing Vertigo because it was the only Groove Armada album you're supposed to have, even if you're not a Groove Armada fan. Something just don't add up in this equation. Ah well, musing for whenever I reach the 'V's.

Vertigo itself was hugely successful, gaining even more commercial clout when Fatboy Slim offered up a big-beaty remix of the hit single I See You Baby (shaking that ass, shaking that ass). That remix isn’t on here though. Cue Dark Helmet .gif if you bought The Remixes thinking it was. Surprisingly, in its original UK format, there weren’t any rubs of that tune, while the American version gets a standard tribal house go from Futureshock slotted at the very end as an afterthought. What does The Remixes think it is, some sort of original LP experience? Absolutely it does, guy.

Truth is, despite earning all the pounds and shillings, Vertigo only spawned two singles (At The River was released a couple years prior), so it’s not like they had a huge abundance of options for a full-length remix package. Rather, Groove Armada outsourced rubs for seven of the original album’s tunes, plus added an alternative remix of B-side Rap. The first few cuts are fine for what they are, Akasha (jazzy d’n’b), DJ Icey (breaks, d’uh), and DJ Dan (thump house) bringing their distinct styles to Pre 63, If Everybody Looked The Same and Chicago, respectively. It’s also quite the genre hopping out the gate, lending The Remixes to the sort of collection you’d expect out of such a title – a pile of tracks useful for DJs or hardcore fans, but not worth a casual home listen.

However, rather subtly, the CD becomes something more. A little deep house from Attaboy, some groovy jazz-soul care of Time “Love” Lee, a spice of funky downtempo breaks business provided by Kinobe, and a trip-hop outing from Natural Born Grooves (using an alias of Elephant, for some reason). You’re likely seeing a pattern here, and it’s a good one, a vibey flow on a compilation where there shouldn’t be, one you don’t mind returning to sometime down the line. And that, my friends, is why The Remixes is still with me.