Various - Sven Väth: What I Used To Play (CD3)

Cocoon Recordings: 2023

Can I say how weird it is seeing photos of Cherub Sven? RIght, I've chosen his most puckish mug shot out from the ones included with the booklet as CD3's cover art, but most aren't that much older looking. I'll grant decades of clubbing will age anyone in rapid order, but he looks like a wee chile' compared to the soul-patch sporting harlequin of his Harthouse days. To say nothing of the Papa Sven look he adopted at the height of his Amnesia fame. Heck, for a large portion of contemporary punters, the grizzled German has always been 'that kooky uncle you love'. I, of course, knew of him earlier than that, such that the 'wet look era' came off quite shocking to yours truly, but man, just how young can this man actually get? Yes, I know that don't make a lick of sense.

We're into the rave years of What [Sven] Used To Play on the final disc, though nothing too bangin' or hype, so if you're expecting some vintage Frankfurt trance, this ain't it. Yes, even though we're definitely in the OMEN era, and even dip our toes into the '90s with tracks like Bobby Konders' Nervous Acid and Primal Scream's Loaded with Andrew Weatherall on the rub. Oh hey, it's that remix, which basically kicked off that whole 'rockers go rave' movement of the Second Summer Of Love.

Other essential rave classics here include A Guy Called Gerald's Voodoo Ray, Ecstasy Club's Jesus Loves The Acid (that's “Aciieedd!” to you), and Meat Beat Manifesto's Helter Skelter. You probably know this tune more for its wildly popular b-side Radio Babylon; aka: that one with the rhythm break knicked by a lot of folks after. And speaking of sampling, here's the first proto-plunderphonic single that charted, M|A|R|R|S' Pump Up The Volume (“Pump up the volume... Dance! Dance!”). Man, did that ever set off an arms race of throwing whatever one could into the production pot, soon after getting suits paranoid over what the actual legalities of all that cribbing of 'found sounds' actually was.

That's most of the familiar tunes sorted. Can't say I ever heard Foremost Poets' Reason To Be Dismal or Lhasa's The Attic, so it's cool filling out a couple personal blanks. The latter sounds like a very primitive piece of New Beat trance, so I can understand why Sven included it, the sort of tune that'd go on to inspire much of Eye Q Records' output. Just, y'know, up the BPM some twenty to thirty notches.

Rounding things out is a re-interpretation of Manuel Göttsching's epic E2-E4 from Sueño Latino – and by 're-interpretation', I mean sampling the tune for their own Balearic house jam. And what collection of early Väth vibes would be complete without at least one OFF track, in this case Electrica Salsa. I dunno', was this popular? I appreciate it for its historical context, but yeah, I'll take Rhythm Is A Dancer or An Accident In Paradise over that any day.

Josh Christie - Stuck On A Space Trip

self release: 2018

So this Josh Christie chap approaches me on Twitter, as the platform is want to allow, and asks me if I'd be interested in reviewing one of his albums. Sure, thinks I, I'm always down for taking in extra tuneage for my queue. Send it my way and, oh, it's only available Bandcamp. Well, I'm not so anal on digital-only releases anymore, though this does put me in a slight pickle. Not so much a 'hey, can you review a copy of my album that I send you?' request, as 'hey, can you review my album after you buy it on Bandcamp?' Seems highly irregular for this sort of thing, but eh, I've paid money for lesser works. Besides, if I cannot keep my word, then what word I offer is any good? No, if I say I'm gonna' do something, whether it's reviewing someone's music or seeing a guide to completion, then by g'ar, I'll do it, no matter how long it takes, no matter the cost.

Don't bother looking for this Josh Christie within Lord Discogs' massive tome of data. A search there instead brings up acts like Christie Front Drive ('90s indie rock) and Josh Groban (modern day crooner). Naturally, the album I decided upon reviewing, Stuck On A Space Trip, is also a total blank, though when I typed up “Josh Christie Stuck On A”, the lone result I got was ...Insane Clown Posse's third album Riddle Box? Uh, well, they both have a stark black background with a green icon on the front. I suppose I could just ask the Tampa chap other details, but judging from the music on this album, it's pretty clear where his inspirations lay.

Space is definitely the place, but so are the British raves of the early '90s, with loving homages to the primitive dance beats and cheeky sci-fi sampling ever so prevalent of the era. In fact, Stuck On A Space Trip almost feels too lovingly replicant of that music, and I'm not just talking about opening things up with the sounds of a train taking off. From more obvious nods to The Orb (Dawn Of Emptiness, Sunny Vibrations), The KLF (The Autocratic Machine), and Shut Up And Dance (Chemical Weapons), to a general vibe not too dissimilar to Orbital and Earthbeat (aka: FSOL's early works) permeate much of the album. And I'm not sure if this is a good or a bad thing.

Yeah, I like me some vintage UK acid house sounds, but where does homage end and blatant lift begin? These sound so much of that time, you could probably convince clueless folks they were unearthed artifacts. It's like, if bleep-acid-ambient-techno-rave could become a synthwave-styled genre – music not only inspired by an era, but highly romanticized into something it never actually was - then this is probably what it would sound like. Why doesn't that happened more often, I wonder? UK acid raves too narrow a cultural niche compared to the omnipresence of The '80s?

Various - Techno Explosion (The Other Stuff)

Jumpin' & Pumpin': 1997

Fifty techno 'giants' has to be among the most ridiculous claims I've seen in the copy of a compilation. What does that even mean? Giant hits? Stakker Humanoid certainly charted, but beyond the FSOL stuff, I don't recognize a single thing. No, check that, there is one song that did significant chart action long ago, Eleanor Rigby. It's practically the same tune too, with the string section and everything, only this time, 'Lonely People' (Chris & Tim Laws) add some generic rave beats and piano fills. Fortunately, that's the extent of trendwhoring 'updates', but nowhere near the end of bandwagon jumping 'techno' cuts.

Though this was released in '97, Techno Explosion doesn't reach much beyond '93, almost entirely sticking to the old school rave era. One track dips a toe slightly beyond that, '95's Burnin' Love from Dutch happy hardcore act Critical Mass, and sounding ridiculously out of place among all the hoover anthems and sampled Amen breaks. What, did Jumpin' & Pumpin' not have enough material culled from EarthBeat, Elicit, and Debut, needing to call in a favour from ID&T to hit that fifty mark?

So there's a lot of rave riffs, proto-jungle, piano anthems and the like throughout Techno Explosion, which probably sounds like heaven if you can't get enough of that era of music. Trust me though, you'll grow tired of it all after four discs worth of non-hits. A huge chunk consist of stitched-together loops of well-worn styles and tropes, few raising above the standard stock of the time. Whenever I heard a cut that sounded a little more polished and intuitive, that there was an musician behind the console and not some hasty hack job, turned out it was a track Dougans and Cobain had a hand in. Man, these guys really were far too good for this shit, weren't they?

Right, it's not all forgotten unknowns rounding out three-fourths of Techno Explosion. The Urban Shakedown posse (Aphrodite, Claudio Giussani) join up with Andy Chatterley for the one-off Prodigy knock-off Feel That Feelin' as T-Boom! Steve Mac, who had a proper 'giant' hit in Nomad's Devotion, appears with a multitude of aliases and collaborations (Clockhouse Hours, Coma Kid, Suzy Shoes, Smak, Bubbles). Jamie Odell, who'd go onto some minor fame in jazzy, downtempo d'n'b as Jimpster, earns his early jungle strips as Flag. Darren Pearce would have a successful run with the Reactivate series (they of the cartoon sea-critter covers), but can't escape bog-standard rave 'ardcore here. There's a DJ Freshtrax with a few scattered contributions, though you might know him as Jon The Dentist these days.

There's not much else to mention. Techno Explosion is little more than a label expunging its back-catalogue in hopes of generating a couple extra bones, with as cheap a presentation as possible (not even an inlay booklet provided). It's like getting a torrent that promises hundreds of classic rave tracks, then discovering most of it is just the same nonsense slightly rearranged over and over and over.

Various - Techno Explosion (The FSOL Stuff)

Jumpin' & Pumpin': 1997

This is a compilation consisting of four CDs, with fifty tracks spread out across them. I bought this for exactly one track, Q by Mental Cube. It's a surprisingly difficult tune to procure on a physical medium these day. In fact, the original version that appears on here was its last official release, disc or digital. It didn't even get represented on FSOL's recent, early-alias retrospective By Any Other Name. Is Jumpin' & Pumpin' stingy with their rights to their pre-Virgin tunes or something?

Ah, I'll take what I can get. Not that Q is some ultra-rare track, having done the rounds on a few compilations back when it was new. Finding decent prices for CDs like EarthBeat, Breaks, Bass & Bleeps, and Techno Dance Party II is strangely difficult though, so upon spotting Techno Explosion for about half-price, for sure I'll bite. I mean, it's got Q on it, possible one of the greatest bleep-E' tunes ever crafted! Never fails giving me the knackered feels, floating on a good gurn when those strings and singing bleeps get to work.

But an even niftier selling point was the inclusion of so much more old FSOL material. Yage is here! Indo Tribe is here! Humanoid is here! Hell, even some of their most obscure alter egos are here. I guess a whole bunch of other tunes from the Jumpin' & Pumpin' library is a nice bonus, but like Hell I'm gonna' spend four reviews detailing all of it. So, despite the FSOL stuff getting spread out across all four discs, I'll just consolidate that material in this review, and save the rest for a second review. Trust me, it'll only take one to get through.

So what does Techno Explosion offer for pre-Lifeforms tunes? You get a couple tracks that appeared on Accelerator in Pulse State and Innate (aka: 1 In 8). There's also a track called Hard Head, a funky sample-breaks thing that Lord Discogs claims had never been released before appearing on here. Better get on it, completists.

Aside from Q, we also get the Mental Cube dreamy house cut So This Is Love. Hearing Stakker Humanoid again is always fun, a little more bleep action comes care of Indo Tribe's In The Mind Of A Child and I've Become What You Were, and the cuts from Art Science Technology (A.S.T. and Esus Flow) sound like the duo were trying their hand at the rock-influenced Madchester sound. Yage goes experimental tribal (Fuzzy Logic) and ravey house (Livin' For The Love). And, oh dear, are FSOL attempting an 'ardcore track with Space Virus as Smart Systems? Stay in your lane, lads.

While a few from this era undoubtedly retain classic status, they are all quite dated too, nowhere near the amazing production quality of even Accelerator material. Still, compared to what else Jumpin' & Pumpin' was churning out at the time, it's clear the duo was light years beyond their contemporaries even within this limited range of old school techno.

808 State - ex:el

ZTT: 1991/2010

The beginning of the end, where a lot of old-school 808 State fans are concerned. Which is funny because the Manchester band hadn't been around for that long, so it's not like they had much time to develop ardent purist followers of their acid house sound. They done did though, their debut album Newbuild commonly hailed as a Very Important Album in the world of UK acid, frequently name-dropped by numerous Very Important Artists of early UK techno. They carried that momentum into Ninety, even scoring a radio hit with Pacific State in the process. So you bet when third album ex:el was announced, anticipation ran white hot within UK clubland for what the lads from up 'nooth' would bring.

A bandwagon jump, it would seem. Or leading the charge in England's brave new rave world, depending on who you ask. You were almost obligated to get ravey with it in the years 1990-92 – even traditionally rock bands were having their stabs at the 'Madchester' sound. Where opinions get split, however, is whether 808 State's cleaner, crisper approach to songcraft ruined what made the 'real heads' of UK acid house fall in love with them to begin with. How dare they abandon the raw, unpolished, don't-give-a-care production that enamoured so many to Newbuild! Instead, ex:el is filled with ear-wormy hooks, thumping rave beats, and guest vocalists from stars past (Bernard Sumner of New Order) and future (Björk).

The trick worked, ex:el going on to be the band's highest charting album (methinks some residual Pacific momentum helped). No less than five tracks out of thirteen found their way into the 808 State ten-year retrospective 808:88:98, including the big rave anthems Cübik and In Yer Face, the mellower jams of Lift and Olympic, and the Björk featuring Ooops. And some contend that still wasn't enough music off here, tracks like the other Björk tune, Qmart, bouncy reggae-influenced Leo Leo, or percussion-heavy Techno Bell just as worthy contenders for any 808 State 'best of' collection. Not the Newbuild hold-outs though – they think nearly everything off ex:el is rubbish, total crossover bollocks or some-such. It's definitely a slicker-sounding album, and no amount of gritty guitar or blaring synth riffs can hide that fact. After four years making UK techno though, you can't blame the band for getting better at production.

The thing that strikes me so odd about ex:el is how the singles are all back-loaded. What, did 808 State not figure folks would be down for tunes like acid cut Nepharti and pseudo-ballad Spanish Heart unless they were on the LP's A-side? Considering the notion of the 'rave album' was still in the process of gelling, it's rather ballsy on their part not hitting you with all the familiar anthems right out the gate.

And in the end, ex:el is one of the finer pure rave albums that era generated. It may not be 808 State's most definitive work, but it's a whole lotta' fun front to back.

Banco de Gaia - The 9th Of Nine Hearts

Disco Gecko: 2016

I shouldn’t feel like Banco de Gaia’s last album, Apollo, is still a recent release. It’s been three years since it came out, and Toby Marks has provided us with numerous items in that time. Singles, remix albums, 20th Anniversary re-issues, expansion of his Disco Gecko print to include music from outside artists. For all intents the Banco & Co. brand has been busier than its ‘90s heyday, which should leave Apollo already a distant memory, this newer, fresher album of The 9th Of Nine Hearts tingling and tugging at my earholes in anticipation. That super-long gap between albums prior to Apollo must have jaded me some, figuring ol’ Toby had turned into one of those “eh, whenever” musicians that was content riding out his past works into the sunset of his career. Sure am glad this album proved me totally wrong on that front!

If Apollo was Mr. Marks finding his ‘90s mojo once more, then The 9th Of Nine Hearts finds him fully expanding upon it with all the song-writing skill attained since then. More consistent throughout, more nuanced in themes explored, more confident in reviving old ideas in service of a new era, this is the album casual fans had been hoping from Banco since… well, whatever they figure was his last, official ‘Best LP’. Pretty sure it isn’t anything from his wayward ‘00s era.

This one though, it’s got spiffy worldly beat-jams (Le Foucauld, No Hablo Italiano), rising proggish rock-jams (Burn The Witch), and throwback ambient dub with guest Pink Floyd saxophonist jams (The Princess And The Sky Goat - and yes, that’s Dick Parry horn tootin’ again). Then there’s ultra-throwback dance cut 91, where Marks teams up with vocalist Sophie Barker (of The Egg’s Walking Away fame) for a retro-rave tune that’s proper old-school acid house in tone, but nice and crisp for contemporary ears.

Amongst all these tunes are plenty of downtempo and ambient tracks that show off Banco’s matured songcraft over the years. Opener Nine Hearts has a widescreen, dream-pop tone with swelling synths and piano doodling. Bookmarking the album is another piano piece in This Heart, incredibly soft, gentle, melancholic, but strangely optimistic too. Not sure why it reminds me of Neil Young’s piano folk – maybe it’s my only real frame of reference to piano music of this sort?

Elsewhere, Warp And Weft gets all ethereal and trippy with Banco’s ambient dub, Midnight Sun goes full-on ethereal, and the middle portion of the album is highlighted by two contrasting pieces. Seriously, Is-Is Loves Anhk-An-Atum and So We Dream Of Futures Lost work so well together, I thought they were the same track on several early playthroughs. This actually happened with a few tracks on this album, 9th Of Nine Hearts one of the best flowing Banco albums in ages. In fact, if I’m to level any significant criticism against it, it’s almost too smooth for the amount of musical diversity on here. I can live with that.

System 7 - System 7 (Original TC Review)

10 Records: 1991

(2015 Update:
I've still yet to take the plunge into System 7's full discography. Shame on me. There's no reason I shouldn't have by now, especially with so much online streaming available at my whim. Maybe that should be a New Year's resolution, to finally take in the entirety of Steve Hillage and Miquette Giraudy, and all their quarter-century of System 7ing. It's not like I expect some wild, unfortunate genre experiments along the way, the duo essentially sticking to their psychedelic trance, prog- rock jamborees through the years (decades!). If anything, their debut remains the least System 7y thing they ever System 7'd.

This review isn't as cynical as I remember, though why I had to get my hate on with the accordion, I don't recall. No wait, I was still feeding off the backlash of Samin's Heater, that's why. I suppose I couldn't help but let my Gen-X jadedness get the better of me too, snickering at such earnest lyrics. Funny how a few extra years of added wisdom has mellowed my stance on them now. That is wisdom I feel now, right? Maybe just gas.)


IN BRIEF: A prog rocker gets chummy with dance culture.

Probably the last name you’d expect to have a trendy club hit in this year of 2008 would be Steve Hillage’s System 7 project. Although he and Miquette Giraudy have long been respected figures within dance music, their tendency to skew towards the psychedelic side of the electronic spectrum hasn’t earned them the spotlight since that style’s mid-90s heyday. Yet along comes Mr. Minimal-Marmite-Man Dubfire with one of his remixes, and propels the latest System 7 single Song Bird high into some of the more hip dance charts out there.

Such seems to be the story of Hillage’s career. It isn’t so much you’d expect him to fade into obscurity, but for all intents and purposes one would assume his contemporary relevance should. After nearly two decades as a prog rock guitarist, Hillage discovered acid house when Alex Paterson of The Orb fame discovered him. System 7 is born soon afterwards, gained a plethora of fans amongst the early goa-trance scene, became a fixture at Glastonbury’s dance tent, and just when you’d think this project has slipped away into irrelevancy, it’s thrust once again into the presence of another generation of party-goers. Perhaps that hippie attitude has provided Hillage with plenty of good karma after-all. Where he goes from here is anyone’s guess, but even if this recent mini-thrust back into the spotlight is to be his last, Hillage has done plenty in his career to deserve such good will.

Really, I don’t think anyone would have expected Hillage to be a fixture within dance music culture for so long given the rather unique plunge System 7 first took. This self-titled 1991 debut is a strange relic of its time, where scene networking could yield powerhouse collaborations of the sort found on here. Along with Dr. Paterson, you have Hillage working with techno-don Derrick May, at-the-time ace-producer Paul Oakenfold, Steve Waddington of The Beloved fame (remember them?), and Martin Glover (Youth) just on this album alone (the System 7 moniker would go on to include work with Laurent Garnier, Juno Reactor, Carl Craig, Greg Hunter, Drum Club, and recently Jam el Mar and Eat Static - whew, but is this ever a namedrop session). Yet, because System 7's concept was more about Hillage’s forays into dance music, the idea of this being some kind of electronic music supergroup was never really considered.

Nowadays, this album has mostly faded from the collective clubbing consciousness for various reasons. For one thing, it remains the only album that hasn’t been re-issued on Hillage’s new A-Wave label, although legal complications with the distributors - UK-based Ten and American-based Caroline (whom had to change the group’s name to 777 over other legal complications) - may have something to do with that. Primarily, though, it tends to be neglected since it bears little resemblance to the sort of music the project would go on to be known for.

And just what kind of music is on here? If you’re familiar with Stereo MC’s, that’ll give you a starting point, because another thing that easily dates System 7 to the early 90s is the incredibly liberal melting pot of genres on offer. There’s house, techno, ambient, soul, breaks, prog, pop, and even hints of psychedelia. With so many different influences contributing, there was no possible way a cohesive style would dominate throughout. Heck, where does one even start when describing what these songs sound like? How about the material that isn’t dated?

The Derrick May pairings easily sound fresh even today. Thumping techno cut Altitude remains superb, with Listen and ambient-intermission Fractal Liason finding the Detroit native’s futuristic touch working wonders with Hillage’s spacey guitar work; any of these offerings could hold their own in a modern-day set. Meanwhile, Alex Paterson’s ambient house specialty can be felt on Sunburst, along with his studio wizardry in Dog, coda-like follow-up Thunderdog, and the straight-forward club-cut Miracle (where Oakenfold lends his talents as well). The production on these is quite remarkable too, where it seldom feels like you’re being fed simple dance loops. There be practiced musicians in them studios, my friends, with arrangements that make ample use of their experienced song-writing skills.

On the other hand, the vocal songs are way early 90s. Whether it be Aniff Cousins’ contemplative raps (think a proto-Maxi Jazz) or Olu Rowe’s soulful singing, their themes remain constant. Freedom Fighters, Habibi, Bon Humeur, Dog, and Strange Quotations all feature lyrics that feed off the “good times are coming” attitude that was prevalent in much of the Western world following the collapse of the Soviet Union. All fine and well, I suppose; you certainly have to admire the optimism. However - and this may just be a generational gap thing - some of the messages delivered in these songs strike me as New-Agey Boomer platitudes, something that was quite common in adult pop music of the time. Looking back on it now with the benefit (detriment?) of cynical Gen-X hindsight, one can’t help but feel a little embarrassed that all the hope of social and political change of that time never gained much traction. Musically these songs are fine (well, aside from that accordion in Strange Quotations), but whether you enjoy the lyrics or not will probably boil down to personal preference. Interestingly, vocals were seldom utilized by System 7 after this release.

Anyhow, fast-forwarding back to 2008, System 7 is certainly a product of its time, and frankly has a difficult time holding up. It’s seldom mentioned when talk of early 90s releases is taking place, and despite the strong musicianship on display, remains lacking in anything one could identify as ‘classic.’ If you’re in the market for electronic music from that era, you’ll find definite worth in this album. However, for those instead just looking to get acquainted with System 7's discography, the Point 3 releases are a better starting point.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2008. © All rights reserved

The Shamen - Boss Drum

Epic: 1992

Nope, I still don't get it. Okay, there's songcraft on display with this album, and I cannot deny a few of these tunes getting my head bobble on. Other tracks though, they just sound undercooked, rote rave filler even for the year 1992. I appreciate The Shamen may not have been at the top of their game with Boss Drum, the tragic drowning of bandmate Will Sinnott deflating some of their creative spark. With an LP that turned out as commercially successful as this one did though, I expected more, something richer than a smattering of catchy tunes rounded out with stock UK acid house rhythms. It makes what The Prodigy were up to the same year all the more dynamic, corny chipmunk vocals and all – to say nothing of proper underground acts and burgeoning ‘intelligent techno’ sorts.

But first, how did we get here? What was it that made The Shamen so darned popular that their acid albums could reach platinum sales, urging similar 'indie rock goes rave' acts like Primal Scream, EMF, and Jesus Jones to have a go? Truly it t’was a sign of the times, a youth movement within the UK seldom seen anymore, where sheer scene popularity could propel any act to the top of the charts, radio play be damned. Of course, it didn’t hurt The Shamen were chummy with credible names like Oakenfold, Orbital, and Mixmaster Morris, very soon getting plenty other up-and-coming cool producers in on their singles for remix action. They may have had the chart success, but kept a foot in the warehouse parties and illegal raves just the same. Then it all went tits up, the group becoming too successful with obvious chart chasers while the second Summer Of Love ground to a sudden and crushing halt. Almost overnight, The Shamen came off a relic of an innocent time, where silly tunes like Ebeneezer Goode could pass off as convincing. No, time for rave music to get serious, dark, gritty, and strictly for the underground.

Its remarkable how much of a flash-point Boss Drum comes off like now, the last big hurrah of UK acid house. There’s still a pile of chipper, lovey-dovey feel good vibes oozing from tracks like Space Time, Phorever People, and chill-out cut Scientas, as though The Shamen believed the party would never end. On the other hand, tracks like goofball ragga-house Comin’ On and throwback rave cut Livrae Solidi Denari (I see what you did there, har har) suggest they were running thin on fresh ideas too. Also, I can’t decide if Re:Evolution is brilliant on the production front (that slow build!), or utterly naff due to Terence McKenna’s ongoing hippie-drippy monologue.

One thing I must give The Shamen credit for though is the titular cut of Boss Drum, one of the earliest examples of the emergent dark, chugging genre of progressive house. Not that I figure they intended it to be held up with the likes of Leftfield, but props for that, eh?

The Shamen - LSI (Love Sex Intelligence)

Epic: 1992

The Shamen were a pretty big deal in the UK, one of those seminal bands of the British acid house wave that many talk of reverentially. For the longest time though, I couldn't understand why – Hell, I still struggle with it. Maybe it's just bad luck on my part, my first exposure to them primarily the chart action goofy shit like Ebeneezer Goode and Destination Eschaton; it'd be like only knowing The Beatles by Yellow Submarine and Ob La Di, Ob La Da. This here LSI (Love Sex Intelligence) single sure didn't help convince me of The Shamen's legacy, plucked from a used store shelf in the hope of learning what the big deal was.

The lead single off Boss Drum, them boys of The Shamen have a message here, yo'. Sex, it can be dangerous if you don't know what you're doing, mang, 'cause everybody be gettin' AIDS an' shit (...wait, wrong decade). So be smart about your hook-ups – even better, hook-up for love, not party-induced lustiness. It'll be better for the heart and soul in the long outlook, isn't that right? Yeah... yeah. Or, I dunno, I barely pay attention to the lyrics, as redundantly repetitive as they are. Maybe they were pressured into doing a 'positive sex education' single, to show that they weren't all about mashy rave bedlam as the press would have you believe. And when the UK media still wasn't buying it, go all in with Ebeneezer Goode.

Okay, good message, but oddly dated to the early ‘90s despite, for all intents, it should be timeless. Maybe it’s just the delivery, or because the smash-hit sex education single of that time, Salt-N-Pepa’s Let’s Talk About Sex, draws every similar tune into its sphere of association.

Enough words, let’s get into the music proper. The original is UK acid house, including little trance-voice plucks for a hook and a chuggy rhythm. Erm, not progressive house though, as it’s too brief and clearly aimed at the charts. Maybe one of the remixes would tap that genre, but if it did, the US version never got it. Instead we get the requisite House Remix (done by The Beatmasters, of course), another House Remix care of E-Smoove (a bit more garage on this one), the requisite Techno Remix provided by Ed Richards, and the requisite Rave Remix by Frank De Wulf. Yep, I believe that’s all the markets covered, at least where America was concerned. Maybe the Germans got a Trance Remix on their copies. They’re all functional tools for the time, and I can’t see anyone needing them in their arsenal these days, beyond a “hey, remember The Shamen?” moment in a set. And even then, LSI is one of the last tracks I can think of getting such a rinse-out.

The Shamen put out quite a few clever productions in their time. Sadly, LSI isn’t one of them, and figures I’d end up with a dull collection of remixes at that. The search continued...

Banco de Gaia - Live At Glastonbury

Mammoth Records: 1996

Much better. Much, much better! Maybe it's the Glastonbury vibe capturing these acts at their best; they sure were the strongest recordings from The Orb's live compilation (hard to call Live 93 a proper album). So if you're a young EDM chap thinking of releasing a live album, better make it a gig from the famous British festival.

Truth be told, I was incredibly hesitant to pick this up at first glance. It’d only been a few months since I’d bought Banco de Gaia’s first two CDs, thus I was still in that ‘eh, not as good as I hoped’ mindset regarding Last Train To Lhasa. Now here’s another CD containing most of Lhasa, plus Mafich Arabi and Heliopolis, another pair of tunes I was lukewarm over as heard on Maya (I was dead-set on believing Toby Marks produced worldly ambient dub and nothing but). Still, what’s that last track, Data Inadequate? Never heard that one on either album, nor was it on the Ambient Dub series. Is it a new song? Nah, probably some live dialog; maybe a corny joke that the show’s over, therefore has inadequate data to carry on. Yeah, that’s it.

Anyhow, I bought Live At Glastonbury regardless, because that’s what you do when you find a new musical love. And sure enough, once the CD played through, my hesitations over its merits quickly dissipated. The crowd’s properly present, their cheers never overwhelming the music while placing you among the mass. A few technical hiccups with the opener Last Train To Lhasa aside, the sound’s clear and full, with enough open air resonance giving the tracks fresh vitality. Mafich Arabi’s funky drum work is essentially unchanged from its album counterpart, but is far more vibrant and energetic with all that extra, delicious bass reverberating off open spaces.

Even better, some of these tunes have been reworked to serve the party environment of Glastonbury. Marks adds layers of cacophonous rhythms and acid squelches to the start of White Paint, turning a formerly sombre piece of music into a raucous build. 887 gets double-timed beats along with funky “whoop whoop” drops, and Kincajou... is actually rather mellow, despite a pumping rhythm kicking throughout. Heh, not like I’d expect another half-hour ambient excursion of the tune at Glastonbury; The Orb, sure.

As for that final cut, Data Inadequate, hot damn, where did this come from? Right, Marks’ first tape-only album Medium, and the old-school vibes are clear as day, all sci-fi space opera synths and chugging UK acid house beats. Its light years away from the typical Banco world beat sound, and a wonderful way to cap off an already fun CD.

Live At Glastonbury may only hold interest for fans of Toby Marks’ project, but for my money (and maybe yours!), it’s also an excellent example of how to do a live album right. Great sound recording, unique variations of tracks, and even a few surprises thrown in: what more could you ask for?

The KLF - Justified & Ancient

Arista: 1991/1992

I never really liked Justified & Ancient in its White Room incarnation. Despite a decent number to end the album on, it held none of the thrill Side A was stuffed with, and little to look forward to after the mostly bland slog of Side B. Of course, I had no bloody idea that the proper single of this tune was totally different until much, much later, but after learning such third-hand, I'd never find it, forever lost to the dustbins of time where- oh, there it is in a used shop. That settles that, I guess.

The evolution of Justified & Ancient is probably more interesting than anything I can say about the music itself. Already a running theme within Jimmy Cauty and Bill Drummond’s discography (popping up as early as the track Hey Hey We Are Not The Monkees in the album 1987 What The Fuck’s Going?, under the earlier The Justified Ancients Of Mu Mu guise ...whew, what a wordfull), it seems appropriate this would end up their final single before calling it quits in the music business altogether.

Ironically, part of their retirement was due to the success of this single, specifically revitalizing Tammy Wynette’s career after she provided vocals for the new Stand By The JAMS mix. Suddenly The KLF were getting requests from a slew of has-been musicians looking for the Timelords bump. Well gee, can’t go becoming a part of the system they’d worked so hard to subvert, so screw you Music Industry, we’re done.

Included in this single is the ‘original’ White Room version, which I’ve warmed to since those blinkered early teen years of mine. Plus, in case you’re one of those ‘progressive house’ DJs needing an instrumental tool, there’s the Let Them Eat Ice Cream mix.

Really though, we’re all here for the upbeat UK acid house, chart topping romp of Stand By The JAMS. It’s got Tammy Wynette bellowing out the verses (apparently time-stretched at points as she was unable to sing in time to the backing tracks – darn country singers and always getting their way with session musicians conforming to their needs), a bouncy rhythm that was quite popular with cross-over house music in the Isle O’ Brits, cheers, chants, raps, guitars, daft lyrics (no, really, what’s with the ice cream van?) and all the uplifting anthem choruses you can sing along to (and wonder just how sincere The KLF were being with them). Oddly, there’s also an All Bound For Mu Mu Land version, which has frequent KLF vocal contributor Maxine Harvey taking on full vocal duties (she also provided the choruses of the Tammy Wynette version). Was this recorded prior to Cauty and Drummond knowing they’d get the First Lady Of Country in the studio, or after when their session didn’t turn out as they’d hoped before Cauty manipulated them? Ooh, now there’s a hilarious set-up for a theoretical one-question-only situation, to have it wasted on something so trivial. I’m sure The KLF would approve.