Sykonee's 'Sportsing' Surveys: NEW ORDER

I'm almost embarrassed that I've never really dug that deep into this band's discography. Obviously I knew a handful of hits, especially when the '80s revival was in full swing at the turn of the century. Yet the first time I actually ever heard Blue Monday was when Tom Middleton mashed it with Tiga & Zyntherus' Sunglasses At Night. Other tunes I heard here and there, but probably didn't connect them to New Order because, far as I knew, they only ever sounded one way or another. I honestly didn't realize just how much rock was in their synth-pop, even with the knowledge that they formed out of the ashes of Joy Division.

How can I be so ignorant of one of the most important bands in club culture's history, especially so in the U.K., what with their ownership of The Haçienda, one of the most important nightclubs responsible for nurturing rave's formative years. No, this simply wont do. I need to expand my knowledge of this band, learn about all their musics beyond a few radio hits and a pumpin' acid techno remix.

Eh? You say I'm doing this just because there's that documentary about them coming out? No, no, I decided upon this survey before I even learned about that. I swear it's the truth, I tells ya'! Anyhow, let's get on it:






















I have to admit, I'm astounded New Order had the rebound it did so late in their career, even with Peter Hook gone. Or maybe he was holding them back for a while there? Who knows, I certainly don't want to dwell on band politics. If for whatever reason you haven't kept tabs, figuring there's no way New Order could recapture their '80s glory, I highly recommend at least giving Music Complete (or even Complete Music!) at least a stream. Hell, I may pick that one up proper-like for a proper review on it down the line.

As for my next survey... I'm not entirely sure who I'll do next. There's plenty I've in mind for consideration, just haven't figured out who I want to tackle first. Maybe I should do a poll on Mastodon?

Tom Tom Club - Tom Tom Club

Sire/Island Records: 1981/2009

I have to assume everyone reading this blog knows the story of Tom Tom Club by now. How the rhythm section of Talking Heads were encouraged to make a record of their own while the band was on hiatus, and instead of pulling a Peter Criss, they debuted with one of the funkiest disco reggae-dub records of the era. One that's endured to this day, with hit singles sampled in perpetuity.

Yes, everyone knows that story. Or so I thought, until just the other day. I mean, the timing of the following anecdote couldn't be more perfect, so I must share it.

I was playing Tom Tom Club's album at work, mentally making notes for whatever angle I might come up with for this review. Genius Of Love comes on, and as that extended groove at the end plays out, one of our younger staff strolls by and mentions, “Oh, hey, Mark Morrison's Return Of The Mack.”

Now, I know he's mentioning this to me as a way of showing off his music knowledge, that someone his age would be familiar with hits of the '90s or something. And I smile, because I'm about to blow his mind.

“Oh, no, this is the original version of that beat.”

“There's an original?”

“Oh yeah, it's been sampled lots. Originally came out in 1981.”

“Nineteen eighty-one!?”

“Nineteen eighty-one.”

“...geez, nineteen eighty-one...”

That, my friends, just goes to show how timeless this record is. Sure, you could quip some of the rapping in Wordy Rappinghood comes off corny, or Booming And Zooming is too weird to be any good, and lord knows this deluxe re-issue didn't need all those pointless remixes added. Damn though, Genius Of Love's irresistible beat. The peppy L'Elephant. The dreamy Lorelei (always loved that name). The charming cover of Under The Boardwalk. Plus an entire bonus disc holding the rarer follow-up Close To The Bone? How can anyone not vibe on this release?

Okay, maybe that last one isn't as great. I mean, it's nice to have it included at all, this 2009 release the first time appearing on CD, and Pleasure Of Love is a worthy single. Unfortunately, I can hear why Tina and Chris weren't as pleased with the album. After the serendipitous recording sessions of their debut (not to mention the fun Bahamas trip included with it), they hoped to repeat the experience in their follow-up. Unfortunately, things failed to click a second time (political revolutions outside the studio didn't help), the resulting album sounding stiffer and forced compared to its predecessor. Measure Up at least recaptures some of the original's magic, and The Man With The 4-Way Hip comes close, if not for the incessantly repetitive lyrics.

Whatever, it's the self-titled debut that remains the star attraction. If you still haven't heard it (*cough* younger generation *cough*), get on it and hear the roots of many a hit rap and R'n'B single.

Tom Tom Club - The Good The Bad And The Funky

Rykodisc: 2000

Tom Tom Club, then. A band that succeeded in spite of factors pointing to, at best, a quirky footnote in the Talking Heads tale. Succeed they did though, where to this day (well, pre-COVID at least), Tina Weymouth and Chris Frantz continued to tour, well into their '60s. Wait, an aging legacy band, with summery music influenced by the Caribbean? Are we sure we're not dealing with a Jimmy Buffet project?

Oh hell, no! How dare I even imply such a connection. Tom Tom Club are forever funky purveyors of Jamaican jam, New York City groove, and disco soul, whereas Jimmy Buffet is... all the opposite of that. Someone just screamed, probably.

I'll get into details regarding Tom Tom Club's creation and influence when I cover their self-titled debut, so let's fast-forward nearly two decades from there, all the way into The Year 2000. Tina and Chris mostly kept the Tom Tom band around as something to do whenever David Byrne would go gallivanting his solo career, which was quite often as the years went on. Eventually David officially disbanded Talking Heads, and though the remaining band members tried carrying on as The Heads, it failed in capturing the same energy without their eccentric lead singer on hand. So, back to Tom Tom Club Tina and Chris went, with a tour that turned out remarkably well after the disappointing Heads experiment. They were so energized by this tour that they hit the studio again, The Good The Bad And The Funky the result. It would be their last album of original material.

Heh, no, it didn't deep-six their careers or anything like that – again, continual tours. I think, however, they simply felt there was nothing left to prove, a legacy intact, a back-catalogue that more than justified itself without needing more added. Not to mention the unfortunate 2001 death of singer Charles Pettigrew, whom been added as an official member of Tom Tom Club during this time, likely left a sombre after-effect on the project.

*whew* That's a mouthful, but how's the music on tGtBatF? It's certainly good, nothing really bad, and definitely funky. Reggae dub and ska generally dominates throughout, with a couple nods to disco and soul in songs like Who Feelin' It, Holy Water, and Let There Be Love. It's all well produced with touches of quirk keeping things on a carefree vibe. Something keeps nagging me though, wondering who exactly this music is for. Tom Tom Club fans obviously, but was there any intent of reaching beyond that audience? There isn't much here that would lure a newer audience, no matter how many wicki-wicki scratches or funky dubs they throw in.

Except for instrumental Lesbians By The Lake. I almost did a double-take, thinking it some long-lost Gorillaz g-side. Which may not be too far from the truth, as Dan The Automator provided a rub on Happiness Can't Buy Money. Returning the favour, Tina sang backing vocals on 19-2000. It's a small world after all.

Various - fabric 43: Metro Area

Fabric: 2008

*cover art care of fabric's “clay models on black” period*

It's been a lo-o-o-ong while since I last indulged Fabric mixes on the cheap. Too many of them resulted in minimal tech-house sets at its insufferably driest, but I've been feeling a bit nostalgic for those random chances. Plus, the series lasted well beyond that era, many changing tides of taste emerging since. Surely there's been a few in more recent years that have sunk to super-affordable prices.

Indeed there are, but I'll get to those later, for we're still in Fabric's 'early years' in this outing with Metro Area. This is actually a rather odd entry, the duo almost finished by the time this came out. Their breakout was half a decade old, and while folks had some fondness for their nu-disco jams, it didn't really spearhead a massive resurgence, clubland more enamoured by sample pilfering and filter-funkifying than anything authentic sounding. Thus Metro Area erroneously got lumped in with the 'electroclash' kids (because retro?), but despite DFA's approval, not quite fitting in with the disco punk crowds either. You could count on a track of theirs appearing on a stripped-back disco funk set, but sadly, Metro Area basically disbanded before the disco-edits scene would have made them super-stars.

Which is why seeing a Fabric mix from them in 2008 is so odd, the peak of their popularity well in the rear-view, but too soon for a nostalgic reminder. Was it because member Morgan Geist was set to release a long-awaited solo album around this time? I don't doubt it for a minute.

fabric 43 is wonderful though, in that it's a total love-letter to the music that influenced much of Metro Area's sound: the b-sides, dubs, and instrumentals of disco, funk, and garage of the early '80s. They dug deep for the unheralded, the unknown, and the unexpected. Like the Dub Mix of Ministry's Work For Love (yes, that Ministry). Or the dope bassline in Play By Number's Cloud Nine. Or the funky electro of Midway's Set It Out. Or the wiki-wiki guitar licks of Wiretap's X-Rated Man. Or the electro-pop perfection of Première Classe's Poupée Flash. Seriously, is there any music Belgian's don't excel at?

This mix is a retro trainspotter's wet dream, and Metro Area beef the production enough so things sound about as modern is they possibly could, but some outdated things simply can't be hidden. Like, good God, are the synth tones, few and far as they are, ever out of tune. They even rib on them a little in the intro, fully aware that even if the rhythms are dope, brace yourself for some woeful 'horn' sounds. Also, as we are in the early '80s, there are occasional ropy drums on display. Our guiding duo generally highlight the best parts of a given track, mixing out quickly, but you can still hear clunky echo effects here and there.

Hardly deal breakers though, fabric 43 definitely worth the pennies I paid for it.

Various - Balance 016: Agoria (2020 Update)

EQ Recordings: 2010

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review)

Three things I need touching upon. First, and probably most important for a supposed 'review blog', how has Balance 016 held up? Pretty good I'd say, in that this was already such a marmite set, there's no way one's opinion of it would change a decade later. Like, maybe if you dismissed it after an initial spin, then returned to it with a different perspective, that might improve it for some. Or you forced yourself to enjoy it from the outset for 'reasons', then never gave it another play because 'other reasons'. That's certainly a possibility. Can't say either has happened to me though.

My thoughts on Agoria's contribution to the Balance series are about the same as they were in my original review from a decade ago (holy cow!). Some great highs (that The Field track!), some lows (French Kiss, just... no), and a lot of meandering middles that I don't mind while playing, but aren't in a rush to replay either. I will reiterate, however, that I do prefer Agoria's sloppier approach to genre-mashing compared to Joris Voorn's clinical take. It's somehow more exhilarating, like you're always anticipating the wheels coming off the tracks at any moment.

Second off, where did Agoria go from here? He got tapped for Fabric a year later, which isn't surprising since that series gets everyone eventually. Another album followed, but he pretty much floated around the DJ circuit with sporadic singles on various trendy labels throughout the '10s (Hotflush, Innervisions, !K7 Records). Eventually he set up his own print in Sapiens, and just this past year released another LP, which included... hip-hop? Huh, well, you do you.

My thirdly item doesn't have anything to do with Agoria, but rather the Balance series itself. Seems Balance 016 was the end of a particular era, where ultra genre-showcases and challenging DJ mixes went by the wayside. Following this, Balance started tapping veteran jocks of the proggy tech-house scene with more regularity, only a few token nods to newer cats taken in the ensuing decade. I'm not sure why this sudden change occurred - perhaps due to the series branching off from EQ Recordings into its own independent label? Gotta' draw in new fans with old reliables, I guess. Won't get you high marks with Resident Advisor anymore though.

It was this change of distribution when I stopped following Balance, no longer so attainable through Canadian shops (not that they were before). I kept in touch with the series just to see who'd do a set and all, but it wasn't until much later that I reconnected, thanks to one particular, and surprising DJ coming in. At that point I figured some older releases had come down in price enough to warrant a splurge. A few, which is where all these non-TranceCritic reviewed Balances are coming from (sans 007). Obviously, Holden was not among the 'Balance on a budget' spree, though I've heard upon the southern winds that a reissue happened this past orbital cycle...

Various - Nu Cool 3

Hed Kandi: 1999

A Very Important compilation, this, for without Nu Cool 3, there would be no Hed Kandi. Okay, label founder Mark Doyle almost certainly had the brand percolating in his head for a while. This one though, this one kicked it all off as its own entity, paving the way for future staples of the compilation racks like Disco Kandi, Back To Love, Serve Chilled, and many, many, many more. Then the brand would grow too big for its own good, branching out from its lounge origins into gaudy mega-clubs and decadent pools parties, forced into Ministry Of Sound servitude to handle all the bloat. Eventually the easy-cool vibes it peddled would pave way to desperate trend chasing, just to keep pace with a rapidly changing clubbing environment, a once respected franchise mutating into a parody of its former glory. Gosh, thanks, Nu Cool 3, for all that.

“But wait!” you say, “How can Nu Cool 3 be the start when it's clearly the third in a series? What happened to 1 and 2?” Uh, haven't I touched upon this before? Well, an ultra-brief recap: Hed Kandi got its start on the jazz 'n' soul print Jazz FM Records, where the first two Nu Cool compilations appeared. They soon after got the backing to launch Hed Kandi proper, with this particular item. And, uh, that's it. We sorted, then? Good, let's get going.

It's quite the timewarp going this far back into the Hed Kandi canon. Their earliest releases were always known for skewing towards the soulful side of dance music, but some of the tunes on this two-discer sounds like it could have come direct from The Garage of the early '80s. I had to sleuth through Lord Discogs checking all these acts and remixes were (then) current. Lots of Masters At Work productions, plus plenty o' contributions from soul-jazz house mainstays like King Britt, Kevin Yost, Rae & Christian, Sylk 130, and Francois K. The Latin side of things gets repped by Cesária Évora's Sangue De Beirona and an Ashley Beedle run on Airto's City Sushi Man. Moloko's Sing It Back is also here, because you just gotta' have at least one big anthem in a collection like this.

Overall though, Nu Cool 3 serves up as fine a dish of house, garage, disco, funk, and soul as you could expect from that scene in the late '90s, providing well-worn tunes while shedding some shine on a few lesser known cuts. A fine way to kick of a-

What the...? Why on earth is Ooh La La from The Wiseguys on here? Sure, tacked on the end of CD2, but holy cow, talk about a tonal whiplash! That tune's always been regarded as big beat, hardly what I'd deem as the 'new cool'. A couple examples of acid jazz action follow, which is a bit more on brand, but still rather rough an' tough compared to all the smooth action that came before. Weird end to this compilation.

ACE TRACKS: January 2018

Four months now. Four. Months. Ef-Or. Nearly one-hundred reviews later. And yet, I'm still not finished this alphabetical backlog! Man, remember when I first started it? I 'member, especially those first few albums, wandering about the local neighborhoods in the first days of autumn, taking in all those... *checks October 2017 reviews* Those Dronarivm albums, and those Mick Chillage works, not to mention an honest-to-God dubstep album. Why, that far back, I reckon no one reading this blog even knew what an Oak Ridge Boy was. It all feels so long ago now, so very long ago, and we're still far from the finish line. Three more letters of the backlog, then it's on to the final three letters of the alphabet, then after that it's... hmm, I'm not entirely sure. Do I keep right on going into albums that feature numbers in their title? Explore other ideas for review material? Perhaps finish other outstanding projects first? Offer myself a little break? Actually, I've plumb forgotten how to 'veg', downtime these days mostly just me having a breather between work and writing. OCD's rough that way. Meanwhile, here's the ACE TRACKS for January 2018.


Full track list here.


MISSING ALBUMS:
Ras Command - Serious Smokers (The Best Of Ras Command)
Simon Scott - Silenne
Seaworthy - Sleep Paths
Geometry Combat - Tanz Der Schatten
Legowelt - TEAC Life
Rainbow Vector - This Way

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 5%
Percentage Of Rock: 5% (though it sure is soft)
Most “WTF?” Track : Daft Punk - Drive (you've probably forgotten this is how they first sounded)

So TEAC Life isn't on Spotify, which on one hand I'm kinda' thankful for because sorting those additional nineteen tracks would be mind-numbing. Plus, with all the Soma techno on hand, having that much techno would go redundant on this playlist. On the other hand, they're all dope tunes, techno that everyone who likes techno should hear – ah well, there's still the Bandcamp option.

Overall, a funny playlist, this one. Techno dominates, but every so often, it gets broken up by a little synth-pop ditty, or a rapping Japanese lass, or a '70s hit you've heard thousands of times on your local radio.

Jamiroquai - Travelling Without Moving

Columbia: 1996

The only Jamiroquai album you probably have, if you're American. Or Canadian. Or Australian. Or New Zealandian. Yes, Travelling Without Moving was the band's major global breakout, finally cluing the planet Earth into what the Brits had known for a few good years – that acid jazz thing is rather quite cool an' funky, y'know. What's funny is despite being their best selling album by several leagues, Travelling Without Moving never hit the number one on the charts, not even in their native UK. Granted, competition was fierce for such a coveted spot that year, including The Fugee's The Score, Spice Girls' Spice, Kula Shaker's K (um, who?), George Michael's Older (he was still popular there), and... wow, Alanis Morissette's Jagged Little Pill? She was obviously huge in Canada, but I had no idea the Brits also loved her that much.

So everyone knows Virtual Insanity, because everyone has seen the video for Virtual Insanity. Quite a few folks also know the retro-disco single Cosmic Girl, because cars. Some people might know the retro-funk of Alright and High Times, though I feel these singles would be better received in recent times, after hipsters and Bruno Mars made listening to such music culturally popular. Most of us on the Western side of the Atlantic weren't ready to accept non-ironic funk-n-soul back into our lives though (t'was all about that G-funk).

That's the singles, but if you're drawing a blank beyond the tracks that “had that cool video” and “was in that episode of Daria”, you can imagine how the rest of the album fared with general audiences. And that's a crying shame, because listening to Travelling Without Moving, you can hear there's some insanely talented musicians at work, fearless in their genre fusion even as the big, bold Billboards beckoned them.

Like, Didjerama, a pure tribal-dub outing with a didgeridoo lead! Then they follow it with more simmering didjeridoo action in the chill funk-soul session of Didjital Vibratations. Who does that on a 'pop' album, especially on the cusp of Spice-mania? Oh yeah, acid jazz guys, because they're all about finding the funk in whatever ways they can (it's not really a jazz genre).

Then there's funky Latin vibes in Use The Force, boppin' reggae vibes in Drifting Along, more disco vibes with the titular cut, more funk vibes with You Are My Love (wee, Moog action!), plus a couple soul outings too (Everyday, Spend A Lifetime). Because you need that love-makin' downtime when there's this much freakin' funk funkin' around. And just in case you forgot what year this came out in, Do You Know Where You're Coming From? gets in on that trendy jazzstep action. Can't be an acid jazz album without d'n'b, I guess.

Given it's sales numbers, it feels weird to say that Travelling Without Moving is an overlooked gem of funk and soul music. Considering the only thing most folks remember from it is an associated video though, that's sadly the case. No more excuses!

Various - Sounds Of The Seventies: The Late '70s

Time Life Music: 1993

This was volume thirty-four out of a series of thirty-seven, and don't this come off like the crusty teat of a withered cow. Sounds Of The Seventies had already given the late '70s ample representation with two rounds of yearly spotlights. Following that, titles such as Seventies Top Forty, Guitar Power, Dance Fever, Punk & New Wave, plus several featured looks into FM Rock and AM Pop rounded up the stragglers, plus three more CDs of AM Nuggets after this. No other compilation in this series highlighted such nebulous ideas like “early '70s” or “mid-'70s”. What gives?

Time Life Music gives their reasoning as thus: “The late '70s was a schizophrenic time for pop music.” Basically, this CD is intended to showcase the myriad genres hitting the airwaves, much of which had little to do with each other. When your opening three songs include Donna Summer's true-disco hit Last Dance, The Village People's camp-disco hit In The Navy, and Boston's silly rock anthem More Than A Feeling, it does impart a sense that things were going a little kooky towards the end of that decade. America, if you thought that was weird, you should have heard the synthy sounds emanating from Europe and Asia too!

Seriously though, there are some interesting contrasts on this CD. The theme to Happy Days is on here, and that's followed by the MTV defining Video Killed The Radio Star from The Buggles, which I always assumed was a 1980 tune because of MTV. Nope, 1979 was when it was released, a technicality but still fits with a Late '70s theme. Punk gets a look-in by way of Blondie's Dreaming, which is followed upon by the... country soft rock (?) of Dave Mason's We Just Disagree. The sultry side of funk-n-soul gets repped by Marvin Gaye's I Want You and The Manhattans' Kiss And Say Goodbye, and rockier outings from John Stewart's Gold, Andrew Gold's Lonely Boy, and Bob Welch's Ebony Eyes show up. Um, yeah, most of the kick-ass rock tunes were already used up in prior Sounds Of The Seventies CDs.

That's one thing I'll give some props to this series though, always featuring fresh tunes with each volume. I sifted through each one, and didn't spot a single repeat, a remarkable feat considering not one instance of Neil Young showing up (da'fuq!??), not to mention nearly no synth music included – Hot Butter's Popcorn did show up though, because how could it not? I suppose there's a couple examples of synth on this CD too, like The Buggles, and the Moog solo on Alan O'Day's Undercover Angel. And let's not forget Minnie Riperton's Lovin' You! While that tune's about as un-electronic as it gets, it found a new generation of interest after The Orb sampled it in their breakout A Huge Ever Growing Pulsating Brain That you know the rest of it. So in true 'begging-chosing' fashion, rave music finally gets its nod in Sounds Of The Seventies.

Various - Sounds Of The Seventies: 1977

Time Life Music: 1990

Anyone remember those mail order music collections? They'd advertise on TV with a huge, scrolling playlist, and you'd hear some familiar tunes that they just don't play on the radio anymore, plus your original record or tape of the album has kinda' deteriorated over the years, but you never bothered to buy that new-fangled CD replacement because you just weren't sure of the format yet? Yeah, those ads. At least, I assume that was the pitch with them, letting Boomers regain all their favourite music for a low-low price of $6.99 per CD (or tape), with a new one being shipped every month, like music Christmas every thirty days. I'm not saying Time Life Music's series of The Sounds Of The Sixties/Seventies/Eighties was an example of this – I honestly don't recall any ads of the sort back then – but it sure comes off that way. Lack of barcode on these discs suggests so.

And no, I haven't come into possession an entire collection of these, but a former owner was offloading some, so being the CD hoarding-whore that I am, nabbed a couple because why not. Logically, Sounds Of The Seventies started off with a rundown of music per year. It then went on to a Take Two round of yearly options, giving twenty volumes of '70s music. The initial run lasted up to thirty-seven releases, and the excuses to keep feeding you music from this decade ran lame towards the end, believe you me. According to Lord Discogs, they stretched things even further past the original thirty-seven, because why end a steady revenue stream, eh? Since most of these tunes were coming from the Warner Music Group, they could keep milking it into the new millennium. They didn't, thankfully, but they could have!

So let's dig into the year 1977. Of the twenty songs in this track list, there's no Kraftwerk, no Vangelis, no Tangerine Dream, and no Can. Well, so much for keeping my interest. Fail.

Haha, just kidding. Of course weird, experimental synth music from Europe has no place in a compilation such as this. We're only after the tunes Americans were digging in the year 1977, which includes rock, funk, country, and soul. Maybe a dash of disco too.

There aren't many surprises then, most of the songs the light-weight, easy-going stuff that's impossible to offend on the radio. Fleetwood Mac's Dreams, Steve Miller Band's Fly Like An Eagle, Foreigner's Cold As Ice and Feels Like The First Time, Linda Ronstadt's It's So Easy and Blue Bayou, and Manfred Mann's Earth Band's Blinded By The Light (“revved up like a deuce, another runner in the night”). The filler stuff features artists like Glen Campbell, 10cc, James Taylor, Al Stewart... a lot of songs I've probably heard before, but don't get my blood pumpin', y'know?

Frankly, 1977 is rather milquetoast, save the glorious opening beat of Bee Gee's Stayin' Alive towards the end. Astounding how that rhythm can carry such a punch forty years on.

Madonna - The Immaculate Collection

Sire Records: 1990

The only Madonna album you need, if you want a bluffer’s collection of Ms. Ciccone’s early discography. Not that her records didn’t sell well enough on their own, but for as much of a phenomenon she became throughout the ‘80s, her LP efforts were often spotty. Killer singles, no doubt, but a fair number of filler tracks too, mostly ballads, covers, and the like. Most folks just wanted to hear the peppy pop of Holiday, Material Girl, or Papa Don’t Preach, then move on with their lives before those awesome earworms started tickling the memory membranes again. Praise be, then, to the greatest hits packages, and what better way to put a capper on Madge’s dominance of ‘80s airwaves than one such collection. Naturally, such an effort could only be considered immaculate by her standards, but as Madonna’s entire m.o. is “if you got it, flaunt it”, what harm is there indulging her? Right, these past ten years of her career, good point.

The Immaculate Collection has everything you need for your Madonna: Phase One needs. The early “Jellybean” Benitez produced hits like Holiday and Crazy For You. The Nile Rodgers produced superhits such as Like A Virgin and Material Girl. The Patrick Leonard produced über-‘80s power pop pieces Love To Tell, La Isla Bonita, and Like A Prayer. The Stephen Bray produced club anthems like Into The Groove, Papa Don’t Preach, and Express Yourself. The Lenny Kravitz produced sultry… S&M… house coo of Justify My Love? Wait, what? Oh, and through much of this period is Shep Pettibone, often serving as an additional producer to give all these songs that extra punch of dancefloor sensibility. Guy was a God throughout the ‘80s.

Even if you were a Madonna fanatic and had bought all the albums, The Immaculate Collection was still a handy pick-up. Bringing all her best songs into one spot helped (don’t laugh, this was an extremely difficult thing for folks to do back in the day!), but it also gathered her wayward hits too, mostly found on soundtracks. Because good Lord, no one should have to buy I’m Breathless just for Vogue - so much better having it here, plus the additional new tracks Justify My Love and Rescue Me, leading us into her Erotica era.

That’s probably the most interesting takeaway from The Immaculate Collection, hearing her development as an artist. This is now all common knowledge of course, but going from the chipper post-disco chirps of her early material to the full-throated husky moans at the end is quite the evolution. It’s a remarkable showcase in proving just how adaptable a presence she’d already become, and fools they be had they thought she couldn’t pull it off throughout the ‘90s as well. Some of the ‘00s too, I guess.

In this day of streaming, The Immaculate Collection probably isn’t all that essential anymore, but at least it provides a handy ‘ultimate ‘80s Madonna’ playlist without you having to fuss for it yourself.

Tiger & Woods - Through The Green

Running Back: 2011

Was that ‘disco edit’ fad ever a short one, eh? Seemed in 2011, it was all anyone talked about in the cool branches of house music. And for good reason, the sound a welcome revisit to the funky, class sounds that built house into the house it became. After years of minimal-tech monotony and abrasive electro-slop, any return to fundamentals would be celebrated, which disco edits provided with unabashed pluck and gusto. Cool is often fleeting though, especially when centered on such a singular trick that can be rendered cliché by bandwagon copycats. It also didn’t help the micro-genre that Tiger & Woods, the very tastemakers themselves, cultivated a code of semi-seclusion, retreating from the hype train whenever they could. And a good thing they did too, capably maintaining a career as the popularity of disco edits waned in favor of the next, hot big nothing (swing house?).

It’s been half a decade since Tiger & Woods made their mark, and they’ve remarkably kept their anonymity since, continuing to use the aliases of Larry Tiger and David Woods in the scant interviews they’ve done. Fortunately, I know of a Lord That Knows All, and The Discogian One provides some clues. Not so much David Woods, or ‘Valerio Delphi’ as one alias alludes to - there’s scant material to this name in the massive database. Mr. Larry Tiger though, now here’s some interesting dirt.

Links to this name include a number of techno records as Analog Fingerprints, some ancient bangin’ acid as M. Chrome, and a respectable pile of albums and singles as Marco Passarani, which include stabs at electro, IDM, house… a varied palette, this man. While the link could just be a coincidental name-tag error within Lord Discog’s archives (it happens!), considering ‘Marco Passarani’ output suspiciously dries up right after ‘Larry Tiger’ appears, odds are pretty good we’re dealing with the same guy. A recent solo album on the same label as this one (Running Back) kinda’ seals the deal. Plus, y’know, Tiger & Woods being confirmed Italians and all.

ANYHOW, this album. The concept here couldn’t be simpler: take some disco samples, loop them a bunch, and tweak them as though they’re your own original bars in Ableton. It’s a trick that can be horribly misused and abused, but Tiger & Woods display a crafty sense of how a solid track should develop. Teasing out the builds so they never overstay they welcome, letting a vocal hook sink in without growing redundant, never falling prey to the ever-tempting effects overload. Admittedly a lot of this sounds like French house without the filters, and Through The Green does get repetitive by album’s end. Most of these tracks were out as singles prior anyway, this LP basically a formality in cashing in on their popularity. As Tiger & Woods have shown more activity this past year though, with luck we’ll see some evolution in their sound now that the fad is long past.

Michael Jackson - Thriller

Epic: 1982/2001

The only album you’re supposed to have, even if you’re not a music fan. Considering Thriller remains the top selling record ever, such a statement isn’t hyperbolic in the slightest. Chances are good you either have Thriller, know someone who has Thriller, or have heard no less than half this album in your lifetime. Yes, even you toddlers incapable of reading this. And if you’re one of those sacks that deliberately avoided Thriller because… reasons, you’ve most definitely seen or heard the covers, the parodies, the memes, or the paraphernalia that spun off from here. Michael Jackson’s opus reintroduced a generation to the concept of an album as an event, one many future pop stars continue replicating to this date with varying degrees of success.

Quincy Jones remains humble in interviews regarding Thriller’s success, the producer often stating he and Jackson were only out to make the best album that they could, not a cultural touchstone that would shape the ‘80s. C’mon, Q’, you had to know you were on some next level shit with this record. You don’t spend an inordinate amount of time and money knocking out the same ol’ R&B tunes everyone else was peddling. You go and get yourself all the best equipment and resources you have available, cross-blending and genre fusing all the fashionable black music of the time while mixing in cutting-edge studio tricks and sounds.

Classic contributions like full horn and string sections, backing soul singers, and funky-ass guitar licks. Modern technology in the form of synthesizers, drum sequencers, and vocal modulators. Obscurities like Afro-funk (Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin’), emulation of outlandish instruments (theremin in Thriller, Blaster Beam in Beat It), and guest spots like Eddie Van Halen in Beat It, Vincent Price in Thriller, and Paul McCartney in The Girl Is Mine. Seriously, one does not get themselves a Beatle without expecting a significant hit on your hands.

Even without the Holy Trinity of Michael Jackson singles, Thriller would be remembered as one of the greatest R&B records of the ‘80s, perhaps ever. Along with the Soul Makossa inspired chant, Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin’ is a great slice of disco funk. Though not released as a single, Baby Be Mine’s got some serious boogie going for it. The Girl Is Mine is pure R&B sap, but delightfully charming (Shyamalan Twist: fed up with Michael and Paul’s bickering, the girl takes off with E.T.). Airy ballad Human Nature did solid chart numbers, P.Y.T. (Pretty Young Thing) gets in on that P-funk vibe, and The Lady In My Life is a fine enough R&B standard to close out on.

But yes, we all know why you’re here. The best bassline of the ‘80s in Billie Jean. The best guitar riff of the ‘80s in Beat It. The best video of the ‘80s in Thriller. These pushed the album from ‘damned good’ into iconic status. Not bad for a genre that seldom got a whiff of recognition from gatekeepers of the old music industry.

Various - DJ-Kicks: Hot Chip

Studio !K7: 2007/2008

DJ-Kicks has been on the market for twenty years now, an incredible feat for any mix CD series. Wait, there isn’t any other with such an accolade! In terms of longevity, the closest comparison could be Pete Tong’s Essential Mix, but the Tongster never committed every entry to a physical format. On one hand, that’s a shame, because there’s been some incredible episodes of Essential Mix that are only available through unofficial, dodgy channels, and a physical medium would make archiving them easier. On the other hand, dear God, can you imagine the shelf space required if they were all on CD? Just keep that terabyte of info on an external harddrive, mang.

Of course, the vinyl and aluminum format has its limits too, printing runs only lasting so long before resources or interest fades. Still, with a respectable reputation and savvy marketing on one’s side, it’s easy enough to trot out the reissues, which Studio !K7 did for DJ-Kicks during their 2008 downtime. For sure there were some older mixes that could use exposure to a newer audience, but I’m befuddled by Studio !K7’s selection process here. Almost nothing from pre-2000 made the cut, while some incredibly (then) recent CDs were thrust back out on the market. Take this DJ-Kicks from Hot Chip, only a year old before being given the reissue treatment. Just… why? I can’t think of any reason this needed another version on the market, not to mention those from other recent mixes by Booka Shade, Henrik Schwarz, and Four Tet. Okay, maybe that last one – the Four Tet fanbase is rather ravenous.

In any case, Hot Chip, those highly eclectic electro-disco new wave pop weirdos, gives us a suitably eclectic mix full of electro, disco, new wave, and pop weirdness. And some tech-house too - everyone was obligated to play tech-house in the back-half of the ‘00s. Such variety is what happens when you invite five guys into the DJ booth though. Hell, even if this set only comprised the tastes of core members Alexis Taylor (the dorky one) and Joe Goddard (the cherub one), it’d still be all over the place. About the only route they could have gone was the mixtape method, and Hot Chip does just that. The opening salvo alone contains electro-pop soft-rock Nitemoves from Grovesnor, flirtatious back-and-forth hip-hop in Positive K’s I Got A Man, big beat soul-funk from Gramme’s Like U, and a mash-up of Subway’s Persuasion’s synth crescendos and choppy tech-house rhythms of Soundhack’s B1. Erm, I’m not sure which B1; Soundhack had a couple.

That’s what this DJ-Kicks entails: mini-sections of outlier tunes (Um’s The Man’s Got Me Beat, Young Leek’s Jiggle It, Nôze’s Love Affair) rubbing shoulders with trendy contemporary hotness (Dominik Eulberb’s Der Buchdrucker, Wookie’s Far East, Lanark Records’ The Stone That The Builder Rejected) and chintzy classics (Joe Jackson’s Steppin Out, New Order’s Bizarre Love Triangle). If you don’t mind the stop-start flow of such a mix, then have Hot Chip’s DJ-Kicks a go.

Todd Terje - It's Album Time

Olsen: 2014

I feel like a right idiot for not diving into Todd Terje sooner. Certainly I'd seen his name around, often paired up with Prins Thomas and Lindstrøm, fanciful phrases like 'nu-disco' and 'cosmic house' floating between them to describe their sound. What I failed to realize is these were just trendy buzzwords to describe something that was already rather old but often forgotten: space synth. However, unlike contemporary purists who simply ape the works of old, these guys approached the genre with a jazzy house vibe, not to mention a few influences from the French disco-pop scene of the same yesteryears. Or maybe it's a Scandinavian thing, finding those impeccable ear-wormy bits of musical gold in some of the hokiest music around.

Mr. Terje though, there's another reason I hesitated in seeing what his discography held beyond a few arpy dance tunes: the long delay in tackling the LP format. His first single, Eurodans, came out a full decade past, and he’s stayed within the EP realm for much of that time since (a DJ mix titled Remaster Of The Universe aside - show your ‘80s love a little more, Todd?). There was some good stuff in those records, but as I’ve stuck with CD as my preferred format, it’s primarily limited me to album buying. O’ forlorn t’was my dilemma, denying myself the sexy fun times of Mr. Terje’s output. But lo’, a Christmas miracle t’was afoot, for the Todd-One heard my wails of plight, and saw fit to satisfy my selfish needs for music consumed in hour length chunkettes. Thus, with a bit of a euro-sigh, he committed to the necessity of all aspiring musicians, album time.

Don’t be taken in by that facade. Even if It’s Album Time presents itself with the flair of a lackadaisical lounge lizard forced to diddle away at a piano for sixty year old European tourists, the music within is anything but. Well, okay, it sort of sounds like that too, but good! Obviously I find favour in the out-and-out space synthy cuts like Delorean Dynamite, Swing Star, Oh Joy, and Inspector Norse (dressed in house’s groove). Elsewhere though, Mr. Terje unleashes the cinematic sap in Leisure Suit Preben, down-low disco funk with Preben Goes To Acapulco, sunny italo-house in Strandbar, and general chintzy Latin oddities with Alfonso Muskedunder and Svensk Sås - Señor Coconut, much? Ol’ Todd also offers a lounge ballad with Bryan Ferry in Johnny And Mary, originally a peppy synth-pop tune by Robert Palmer. Hey, if you play the part on the cover, you gotta’ deliver within.

It’s Album Time finally commits the best facet of any album: flowing like an actual album! Even with a few older tunes sprinkled in, this LP is far from an odd-n-sods collection of singles. Todd Terje promised us a proper album experience in the title, and by gum he’s given it to us. Worth your ears’ attention if you’ve the slightest glow for synthy space disco in a modern setting.

Boney M. - Nightflight To Venus ('Proper' Review)

Song BMG Music Entertainment: 1978/2007

Okay, let's critique this for realsies. Does Nightflight To Venus hold up? Was Frank Farian a mad musical genius or German hack? Why do we forgive Boney M.'s lip-syncing, but ruthlessly crucify the latter Farian-helmed project, Milli Vanilli? Actually, that last one's easily answered: Milli Vanilli won Grammys, while Boney M. did not. Fool the common plebs of music consumers all you want, but don't you dare make a mockery of the Grammys!

It's not like Farian planned a career of studio lurking while pretty boys and girls pranced about on stages, quite content remaining anonymous. Despite a love of funk, disco, soul, reggae, and other contemporary black music, his being way German wouldn't fly with traditional audiences of those scenes. So hiding in the studio suited him fine, but then his Boney M. project got ridiculously popular within a few short years, and a demand for live performances and telecasts forced him to create the stage act we associate with the name. Why not appear live himself? He wouldn’t be taken seriously, of course, unlike having lip-syncers ‘perform’ the music instead. 1970s, you so wacky.

Nightflight To Venus came out when Boney M. was at the height of their popularity, Farian’s perfect blend of disco-pop and euro-reggae having won the ears and hearts of thousands across the continent. How’s a crafty German follow upon such success? Get totally conceptual on the masses’ asses! Well, not too conceptual, but the first two tracks have to rank up there with some of the ballsiest moves a disco-pop producer could open an album with.

Though hopping on the super-hot sci-fi bandwagon with the titular cut wasn’t unprecedented, the fact Farian would craft such a loopy, tribal rhythm had to catch the Boney M. faithful off-guard. Add in marching drums and clapping “Hey! Hey!”s, and it feels as though you’re a part of the Soviet Verena missions to Venus. For that matter, Farian must have had a brief fascination with the Russians, carrying the rhythms through to Rasputin so whatever theme he’d created with Nightflight To Venus was maintained. As for one of the biggest disco-pop hits ever, can you imagine a song about a Russian monk hitting the top of today’s dance charts? Hell, anything with an historical story involved? Utterly, brilliantly daft and genius, that Farian be.

The other big single off here, Rivers Of Babylon, plays more to the group’s Caribbean charms, inoffensive music often emanating from radios, though anyone deeply versed in reggae won’t find much of interest there. And if I’m honest, that’s also true for the disco cuts He Was A Steppenwolf and Voodoonight. Farian does have a way with a hook though, and slick production chops that you can’t help but find yourself grooving to. It’s the sort of music most DJs wouldn’t mind playing as part of a fun mixtape, the unheralded album tracks that somehow work against all odds. Go on, admit your unabashed adoration for Boney M. Rasputin compels you to...

Boney M. - Nightflight To Venus (Anecdotal 'Review')

Song BMG Music Entertainment: 1978/2007

Say what you want about Boney M. – and believe me, you won't be saying anything new – it's undeniable their popularity's endured thanks to Frank Farian's impeccable production chops and savvy marketing. Hell, it sure worked for me, Nightflight To Venus an irresistible concept to a kid just discovering things like Star Wars and other cool space-orientated- ack, no, no! I won’t turn this review into an endless parade of anecdotes. My self-imposed word count doesn’t allow for it. Okay, focus, focus...

Nope, not happening. I’m not getting through this review without dropping more. Sure, I could be all professional and shit about Nightflight To Venus, but there’s no fun in that. I’ve so many stories tied to this record, so many memories as a kid listening to it. You know what, screw it. I’m going all the way down Anecdote Alley here, and if that’s a problem, come back tomorrow where I’ll deal with the album proper-like. I gotta’ get this nostalgia outta’ my system, folks.

Nightflight To Venus is undeniably ground zero for my enjoyment of so many things musically: catchy hooks and harmonies, DJ mixes, dance rhythms, space-themed music, and Neil Young. For a kid getting into sci-fi, the titular opener was utter catnip for a fruitful imagination. Those robot voices, sound effects, gnarly guitar licks, and thumping rhythms was unlike anything I’d heard before, purely driven by a concept than actual song writing. Then it kept going into a totally different song about a bizarre Russian named Rasputin, with some of ear-wormiest hooks I’d ever heard. It blew my young mind you could even do that with music, make two separate tunes seem like one! And those awesome choruses are filled throughout Nightflight To Venus, some with lyrics that seem almost intended to be sung along with by kids (Painter Man, Rivers Of Babylon, Brown Girl In The Ring).

What’s elevated Nightflight To Venus above so many other albums of my young life, however, is the fact it was the first record I recall listening to front-to-back, and aside from Raffi’s Baby Beluga (shaddap), would remain the only one I would repeatedly do so for many years. For as much as I enjoyed The Police’s records too, I still could only ever get through half a Side A before getting bored. While Boney M.’s fun music was part of my willingness to go the distance, the fact one of my favourite songs on the album, Heart Of Gold, was at the end, forced me to sit patiently through the whole record to hear it (the original’s country? No way, this is the real version!). Even the slower ‘message’ song before it, Never Change Lovers In The Middle Of The Night, couldn’t deter me from waiting in anticipation for those wonderful vocal harmonies and funky disco guitar licks emerging. It instilled a listening habit that persists to this day, of appreciating albums as collective wholes rather than jumping from song to song. Well done, Nightflight To Venus. Well done.

Various - FabricLive.36: James Murphy & Pat Mahoney

Fabric: 2007

*cover art brought to you by FabricLive's “Cave Drawings In Water Colours” period*

I'm surprised this year's “Fabric On A Budget” venture hasn't turned into as much of a slog as I feared it would. Many of these CDs have been quite enjoyable, some even surprising me in curtailing expectations. Chalk it up to FabricLive's eclecticism, every edition I've covered offering something different from the last. I suppose you could say the same of the fabrics too, but aside from Radioactive Man's pure electro excursion, there isn't that much of a stretch between deep house, tech-house, and minimal house. Compared to the breaks, hip-hop, bass music, rock (!), electro, disco-punk, and mash-up action going down with FabricLive (and I haven't even covered one of the many drum 'n' bass mixes), you can forgive me for finding this series' diversity more exciting than having to indulge in “yet another *blank* house mix” from the other.

Even here, arriving at FabricLive.36, I'm feeling all squee inside, despite knowing almost exactly what sort of music I'm gonna' hear on this CD. James Murphy and Pat Mahoney are LCD Soundsystem, or at least the primary music makers behind the project. Whenever touring with the band, they'd pull a double-gig DJing on the side, which must have let ol' James breathe a sigh of relief not having to bellow out Losing My Edge or North American Scum twice in two nights (to say nothing of his intense cowbell smashing!). As this was about the time they were touring the sophomore LCD effort, Sound Of Silver, of course they'd get a chance at a Fabric mix too – seems the trend with these, after all.

A few tracks aside (Baby Oliver’s Primetime, Mudd’s Adventures In Brickett Wood, Babytalk’s Keep On Move, their then-current LCD B-side Hippie Priest Bum-Out), Misters Murphy & Mahoney (sitcom pitch!) are taking us on a tour of late-‘70s slash early-‘80s disco, garage, and funk. Some tunes are from very familiar names (Chic, Peech Boys, Was (Not Was), Love Of Life Orchestra, Donald Bryd), but being the New York City proto-hipsters that they are, the duo opt for showcasing unheralded acts of the era.

There’s disco-boogie from Gichy Dan’s Cowboys & Gangsters and Punkin’ Machine’s I Need You Tonight (think Tom Tom Club), electro-funk from Elektrik Dred’s Butter Up, and dancefloor-soul from Jackson Jones’ I Feel Good, Put Your Pants on. Also, Good Ol’ James and Pat (lame spinoff show) squeeze in a bit of a Vanguard showcase of the early ‘80s, a veritable giant of independent record labels that’s provided an outlet for tons of jazz, blues, funk, and folk music since the ‘50s.

Mixing? Eh, functional for the most part, given the nature of these DJ unfriendly tunes. FabricLive.36 is more like a mixtape than a live rinse-out with its clever track arrangement – try and guess which disco and funk numbers are actually from the 2000s!

Various - FabricLive.31: The Glimmers

Fabric: 2006

*cover art brought to you by FabricLive's “ARTIST IN BIG FUCKING LETTERS” period*

The FabricLive series features quite a few acts I’m very familiar with. Due to the proliferation of breaks and jungle DJs, I’ve probably seen a good third of them, those scenes holding strong in various spots of the backdoors of British Columbia, especially so the Shambhala Music Festival. The 'party-in-the-mountains' boasts a vibrant jungle and breaks contingent, and were even early adopters of dubstep when that genre had barely begun its exodus from the UK. Plump DJs, Adam Freeland, Freestylers, Stanton Warriors, Diplo, Andy C, DJ Craze, A-Trak, Drop The Lime, and even all the way up to the latest (lambasted) FabricLive contributors Jack Beats, I’ve had the chance to check out live.

Then there’s a duo like The Glimmers. I’d never heard of these guys before, and upon reading their bio, I feel right stupid for not knowing them. Formerly the Glimmer Twins (re: Mick Jagger and Keith Richards nicknames), David Fouquaert and Mo Becha picked up the DJ trade nearly thirty years ago, playing out at Belgium clubs before raves were even a glint in the UK’s dilated eyes. Their accomplishments were relatively humble throughout the ‘90s, never seeking the spotlight but always in the mix of things within clubland, offering a funky, soulful alternative to rave’s blistering energy or eurodance’s camp. As their tracklists often contained unsung ‘80s hip-hop, rare dub reggae, and ‘70s French disco, some PR guy must have noticed how marketable such proper retro vibes were once such ‘anything goes’ mixtapey mixes grew in popularity at the turn of the century. Suddenly The Glimmers were releasing singles, LPs, DJ mixes (including one for DJ-Kicks a year prior to FabricLive.31 - how did I miss these guys!?), and receiving plenty of deserving spotlight.

Unsurprisingly for a duo influenced by the early days disco and glam, their set runs through plenty of tunes from names recognizable (Roxy Music, Freddie Mercury, Howie B.) to wacky obscure (Arpadys); from upfront disco funk (LCD Soundsystem Disco Infiltrator, their own Kobe’s In Columbia) to ancient oddities (psych-rock fuzz jam Pierre Henry); and we can’t forget those curious trainspotter’s classics either (George Kranz’ Din Daa Daa, The League Unlimited Orchestra’s Things That Dreams Are Made Of).

With all these eclectic tunes and genres, why The Glimmers must be DJ gods to make it all flow smoothly together! Ah, no, not really. Well over half these tracks are pre-‘90s, and as any DJ worth their needles will tell you, beatmatching records from those days is nothing but headaches. Instead, we get quick crossfades, intermittent ka-lumping phrasing, and songs that outright end with a half-breath of space before the next start. There’s just no simple way of segueing disco punk into reggae dub, is there.

Was This Worth The Pennies Paid For It?
I’m a sucker for mixtape sets unearthing the past as The Glimmers do here. Chalk up another steal for the money spent.

Various - fabric 30: Rub-N-Tug

Fabric: 2006

*cover art brought to you by fabric’s “Lensed Deformity Photography” period*

Either I'm getting ridiculously lucky in this year's “Fabric On A Budget” venture, or some folks out there just don't have good taste. Why would anyone want rid of a mix CD as good as this one? For sure a DJ duo fancying them Rub-N-Tug doesn't bode well for those judging acts by name alone – it sounds like some tacky massage parlour in New York City's seedier neighbourhoods. Eh, what's that about them? Oh.

Rub-N-Tug is Thomas Bullock and Eric Duncan, two New Yorkers who played the after party circuit for a number of years during the region's post-Giuliani nightlife recession. This primarily meant small enclaves and lofts above massage parlours, earning their gigs the reputation of being ultra-hip and only for those in-the-know. It also helped if you were up for an 'anything house goes' vibe, the duo simply having fun playing vinyl favorites without much care for super-technical proficiency or journey set construction; good ol' unpredictability, then. They also keep the groove relatively on the slower side, though never crossing into downtempo territory, the sort of rhythm that moves bodies without wearing folks out or pissing off the neighbours living underneath.

Since the afterhours vibe is Rub-N-Tug’s game, making a mix CD for home listening isn’t much of a stretch for ‘em. I’m surprised Lord Discogs lists fabric 30 as their first one, American DJs often needing a couple releases under their belt before a UK label comes a-knockin’ – maybe a Fabric promoter went to one of their after-parties. The names on here run the gamut from familiar (Röyksopp, Claude VonStroke, Ewan Pearson, Âme, Marshall Jefferson, Black Strobe, Serge Santiago, Satoshi Tomiie) to obscure (Nemesi, Rufass, Foolish & Sly, Unknown Artist). Even judging by those recognizable acts, one can tell we’re dealing with an eclectic collection of tunes. House (both deep and tech, but thankfully not deep-tech), disco funk, a touch of the disco punk (it is New York City, after all), and smattering of space-synthy electro-house (ooh, Discopolis from Lifelike & Kris Menace is one fun little anthem at the end).

As a technical set, fabric 30’s unimpressive, most mixes functional and Rub-N-Tug forgoing any sort of journey for long. Of course, that’s how most afterhours mixes play out anyway, DJs free to rinse out records as they see fit. Bullock and Duncan deserve credit, then, for keeping fabric 30 as tightly flowing as they do, considering they aimed at capturing their post-party vibe in but sixteen tracks. The twists they do throw in serve as spice for an already smooth-tasting mix.

Was This Worth The Pennies Paid For It?
How could it not? Simmering funk, earwormy synths, deep grooves, and soul to spare. It’s a near-perfect cocktail of post-clubbing house music that never falls prey to insipid deep house clichés or vapid chill-out banality. I guess you could say fabric 30 rubbed... and tugged me in all the right ways! (eh? eh? ...*sigh*)