Hercules And Love Affair - Hercules And Love Affair (Original TC Review)

DFA: 2008

(2013 Update:
As tempting it is to claim Hercules And Love Affair was ahead of its time in predicting the return of classic house and disco vibes we're enjoying half a decade on from this release, let's be honest here: that prediction all the trendy publications were pushing as the 2008 narrative promptly fizzled out by the following year, an infatuation with k-hole grooves and druggy lyricism dominating underground house for the next while later. So thoroughly forgotten was the 'house revival' that, when Andrew Butler followed up this well-received debut, hardly anyone gave his sophomore effort, Blue Songs, much attention. No, it'd take the efforts of post-dubstep UK chaps and two French robots before everyone finally properly claimed classic house was back. Or maybe not - let's see how we're doing on that front a year from now too.

This album's held up fine, and indeed is quite enjoyable if you're one of the late 'revivalist' bandwagon jumpers. Who knows what the Hercules project has in store for the future though, as what was once an unique offering in a sea of minimal-tech monotony can all too easily get lost in the current sea of like-minded producers.)


IN BRIEF: ‘Beardo disco’ you don’t have to dig for.

Contrary to popular belief, old-school house music never went away. For the most part, it’s lingered in the back of our minds thanks to endless classics compilations and nostalgic DJ mixes such as the Choice series. Unfortunately, such an association to the past has kept those vintage sounds of garage, Chicago, and acid firmly away from the spotlight as many producers continue to try and take house music in new directions. All fine and good, and sometimes they’ve even come up with winning results, but it was no reason to completely abandon the old either.

Actually, check that. One of the reasons classic house music was left to the history books was due to the genre’s refusal to move on in any significant way. Too much emphasis on adhering to The Rules laid out in the beginning left the genre quite stale by the time the mid-90s rolled around; and those who still produce the odd track in the old style are often guilty of honoring the past just a little too much, writing homages rather than songs. It seemed things were going to stay that way too; however, the year of 2007 saw a number of quiet singles break ranks and show there was still room for classic house to grow, and with the current trends of nu-electro and minimal growing stale it was the perfect time for a potential revival.

Amongst these singles was a debut release from an unknown individual by the name of Andrew Butler. Producing under the name Hercules & Love Affair, Classique #2 turned heads, especially so because it was released on iconic disco-punk revivalist DFA; while definitely fans of dance music’s past, the label hasn’t typically been figured one for house preferences. Not even half a year later, Butler has been given the full-length green-light and, perhaps unsurprisingly, the trendsters of the music press have jumped all over this self-titled album, all too eager to once again have their overflowing early praise be the starting point of yet another musical movement. Although some of the pure disco aesthetics help distance it from more standard house labels like Om, Naked, or (*snicker*) Hed Kandi, I can’t help but believe the hipster hype over Hercules would be near non-existent if such were the case.

That said, there’s definitely something more special going on in this album than what you would find in typical house music fare. Yes, all the elements of disco and house from years prior 1990 are here: Moroder staccato basslines, funk-band trumpets and strings, Knuckles grooves, soulful lyrics. What Butler has brought, though, is renewed vitality and inventive spins that keeps these songs fresh. Whether making use of unpredictable chord sequences (Hercules’ Theme; You Belong), crafting sonic depth with unassuming background textures (Athene; Raise Me Up), or throwing in quirky cartoony sound-effects (True False/Fake Real), this album is filled with hidden little sonic treasures.

And then there is Butler’s supporting cast (this the Love Affair?). Being tied to DFA, he already has amongst dance music’s most versatile session musicians to tap, with folks such as Tyler Pope and Eric Broucek bringing their A-game to this project; and the Tim Goldsworthy production touch is always, er, gold. Also thrown into the mix are a bunch of brass players few will be aware of but provide such an integral part to the disco vibes on here, you’d think this was a full-time band with plenty of years working together.

Probably the biggest highlight is Antony Hegarty, who’s vocals steal the show anytime he’s featured (Time Will, Blind, Easy, This Is My Love, and Raise Me Up, for the record). His earnest croon fits perfectly with the disco motif, elevating the songs he sings on to lovely heights. Small wonder the lead single for this album -Blind- has been getting so much play (if you haven’t heard it yet, you will soon enough). Like Knuckles and Principle, Butler and Hegarty are a potent combination.

This all being said, Hercules And Love Affair does have some hiccups too. For one, despite exhilarating songs like Blind and You Belong on offer, if you are not a fan of vintage disco and house, then this album probably won’t win you over. Truthfully, I can’t see many under the age of twenty-five getting into this as the production seems geared for those with musically-matured tastes (hence all the brief solos throughout), but then that’s long been the hipster domain anyway. Also, the songs feel rather short, as they tend to end abruptly. Hercules’ Theme is a prime example: after a riveting funk-band jam build in the second half, the song just stops; a coda of some sort would have been nice. Perhaps when Hercules & Love Affair perform live, they’ll expand on these songs more, but that still leaves many of their offerings here coming off like teasers that could have been fleshed out more.

Everything being said, quibbles such as these are minor, and for a debut album Hercules And Love Affair is solid enough to warrant your attention. Sure, the ‘beardo disco’ brigade will be hyping the shit out of this but there’s also enough for casual fans to enjoy too without having to succumb to the hipster lifestyle. After these last few years of clicks and farts dominating house music, it’s refreshing to hear the old-school executed in such a pertinent fashion.

Sven Väth - Harlequin - The Beauty And The Beast

Warner Bros. Records: 1994

Sven Väth is Sven Väth, a very important- wait, I did that joke for him already. Then let’s get right to it for this mega-maxi CD of Harlequin – The Beauty And The Beast. As the lead single to his sophomore effort, The Harlequin, The Robot And The Ballet-Dancer, there was quite the bit of expectation going in. An Accident In Paradise was hailed as a early classic of the emerging German take on techno (trance!), even with some of the odder sonic doodles hampering the album’s overall flow. Could Sven capture the same magic he and Hildenbeutel crafted with Ritual Of Life, Caravan Of Emotions, and L’Esperanza?

Not with a convoluted title like Harlequin – The Beauty And The Beast. What is that even supposed to mean? I realize The Harlequin, The Robot, And The Ballet-Dancer had something of concept going on, but the title is horribly clumsy. Not to mention just glancing at it along with the so-very ‘90s CGI cover art undoubtedly had some wondering if Sven had gone all prog rock on them. The music may be perfectly fine, but man does the presentation do it no favors.

In the end, the track with the longest title was picked for the lead single, annoying any scribes setting out to review it. It’s a decent enough tune, in that early Teutonic techno sort of way. Skitchy backing synths, a lead that’s easy enough to get hooked on, and some nods to goa trance that was catching on elsewheres in clubland (although the Club Mix is about where you’ll hear most of it, what with over ten minutes to work with).

Remixes then. Since this was intended to be Sven’s hot new single, there’s a pile of them. Underworld’s take on Harlequin – The blahblahblah works the group’s classic cool groove into a twelve minute excursion that plays to all of progressive house’s ‘back-in-the-day’ strengths, never feeling as long as it actually is. And as the original owed some sonic nods to psy, Total Eclipse offers a proper goa spin on the tune. C.J. Bolland’s also here, beefing up the beats if you like your techno hard and bangin’. And finally, Pascal F.E.O.S. gives us a remix that’s a little more bare and acidy.

No, wait, that’s not ‘finally’, if you got this American version of the single. All those other remixes, they’re just too Euro, man. What this tune needs is some proper, deep, funky garage-house from the likes of Murk. In fact, forget whatever the original sounded like, let’s get Marck Michel on the microphone, giving Harlequin – DamnitI’mnottypingitanymore more soul than those Germans could hope to craft. And you know what? This ‘remix’ is so good on its own, let’s have four versions of the same bumping, muscular vibes. ‘Cause that’s the ’merica way of doin’ things, boy.

Quite a diverse collection of remixes then, but unfortunately overstuffed, leaving the finished product a middling affair. Too many utterances of “the beauty and the beast” methinks.

Jim 'Shaft' Ryan - Miss Moneypenny's Glamorous Grooves (Original TC Review)

Beechwood Music: 2001

(2013 Update:
This probably shouldn't have come up here, but for some reason Windows Media Player has this listed as Glamorous Grooves only, so whatever. Get it over with, right?

Actually, this CD's held up fine, even with a laughable mono-mixdown (how'd you neglect mentioning that, 2007 Sykonee?). I think I might have oversold the glitz Miss Moneypenny's advertises, but the brand is still kicking it around, Jim 'Shaft' Ryan still holding residency. Good for them, especially in maintaining the funky disco vibes in an era that would have it coming off dated. Proper house music will never die! Or something.)


IN BRIEF: Not as bad as you’d expect.

Miss Moneypenny’s. Expensive cover and cocktail drinks. V.I.P. lines longer than the regulars at lesser clubs. Tarted up barbie-dolls. Shirtless clubbing guidos. The very epitome of style-over-substance. Where the most fabulously fabulous go to bask in each other’s fabulousness. Oh, and apparently they play house music too.

In all seriousness, the clubbing franchise has done well for itself considering its humble beginnings as boat parties near Birmingham over two decades ago. It made Ibiza’s euro-trashiness its divine ethos and has remained unapologetic about the high-class standards it places on its patrons. They believe Studio 54 had the right idea, and along with Mediterranean hedonism indulge in the disco-glamour fantasy that legendary club made for itself. All fine and dandy, I suppose. For as many artistic or spiritual attributes folks place on the clubbing culture, there are still far more out there who prefer the skin-deep good times a place like Miss Moneypenny’s provides. It can make you feel like a million bucks because you’re forced to look a million bucks to even attend, and are often surrounded by folks- sorry, la beau monde dressed in similar fashion.

At the turn of the century, the night was finding huge success with a booming club culture, and like nearly every other mega-brand, they started making sponsored DJ mixes. But whereas most were jumping on the trance bandwagon, Miss Moneypenny’s stuck with the sound that made them who they were: funky disco house. In hindsight, that was unusually wise for a club typically known for expensive shallowness; the brand remains as consistent as ever whereas other superclubs like Gatecrasher and Slinky have fallen off.

And so we come to Glamorous Grooves, one of a few DJ mixes cheapo label Beechwood released for Miss Moneypenny’s before the club established it’s own label. Considering all the factors that should have made this a dodgy release (superficial club, crap label), it turned out not half bad.

Chalk it up to the fact funky disco house is just, well, fun! Granted, the music is often secondary compared to the patrons of Miss Moneypenny’s, where they be far more interested in flaunting their styles to each other than discussing the subtleties of a filter effect. However, such concerns have no bearing when throwing on a CD at home where the music can be judged on its own merits. And here Glamorous Grooves yields plenty of housey delights that saw the rounds at the turn of the century. Rui Da Silva’s Touch Me; The Face’s Needin U 2, in the guise of a then-modern update; remixes of chart toppers from Fatboy Slim and Moby; other remixes from singing legends like Grace Jones, Barry White, and Loleatta Holloway; plus plenty of cuts from usual house favorites like Olav Basoski, Junior Jack, Harry “Choo Choo” Romero, Robbie Rivera, Joey Negro, and so on.

Disco, tribal, Chicago, garage, latin, and even jazz are all blended into the funky bowl, effectively making the music on here dateless. It’s certainly more entertaining to listen to than most of what passes for popular house these days. Give me the filtered disco build over a stomping fart bassline any day.

Unfortunately, whereas the music itself holds its own, the presentation of it leaves something to be desired. If anything, Jim ‘Shaft’ Ryan, who’s long been the main resident for Miss Moneypenny’s, handles his trade well but is unremarkably routine.

He knows his role as a club DJ and that translates onto disc one’s sequence. Opening with the instantly catchy All I Do, he works a slow burn to peak out on his own Happy Daize. Things subside for a bit, and this usually means easing the crowd down from their dancing euphoria to grab a drink at the bar. Some simple groovers play out while you wait in line for your cocktail, drink it down, share a chit-chat with some hot minx or thick stud; maybe make a quick bathroom run too, for whatever reason you see fit. Soon enough, the groove gets more infectious, and DJ Disciple’s It’s Easy hooks you back in, where the disco delights continue on the dancefloor for the rest of the mix. But what’s with that slam-mix into Let The Music Play? Just yipes.

Disc two, meanwhile, tries to go deeper into the tribal funk. For the first half, Ryan mostly succeeds, and Sharem Jay’s remix of Honey makes for a nice little peak. Sadly, the mix takes a steep drop in the momentum after that, and never recovers with any sense of flow. It seems Ryan has a pile of tracks he wants to play out but can’t figure out how to make these cuts fit together, so he just hodgepodges it. And while Sax Heaven from The Italian Connection (a pre-shit Robbie Rivera project) makes a valiant effort to rescue this mix for the end, it’s not enough to erase the memories of bland that came before.

And then there’s the general sound quality. Of course, this being Beechwood, it won’t be the best mixdown, but even the DJing sounds rough in places. I’m all for authentic DJing but surely some of these mixes could have used a couple different practice spins to make them work better?

Still, I suppose the real question lingering is whether this older release is worth your time. In all honesty, only if you see it for bargain-bin cheap and you have a bit of spare change burning a hole in your pocket. There are tons of funky disco house mixes out there, and while Glamorous Grooves is a decent enough product, it’s hardly essential listening. The Miss Moneypenny’s faithful may find more worth in it, mind, but for the rest of us it’s merely a passing fancy.

Roger Sanchez - Come With Me (Original TC Review)

Ultra Records: 2006

(2012 Update:
Wow, is this ever a dated review, but then anything over half a decade old now probably will be. This came out just before the Swedish House explosion properly took off, so Sanchez' brand of NY garage-house still had success. Within a year though, he was tapping electro house remixers for follow-up singles, then his own output dried up. Guess he couldn't keep up with house music's changing tastes. Still, this remains a fun album, girlie as all hell though it may be. There's a degree of class to be had here that often lacks in SHM's material, and I'd sooner strike up a conversation with a lady that vibes on this music instead of anything Steve Angello puts out.)


IN BRIEF: Music for the missus.

The last couple times New York-based DJ Roger Sanchez came to my humble little Canadian city, the results have been chaotic ...at least in terms of ticket sales. It seems, due to the high demand of Sanchez’ presence, the nights either get oversold, super-scalped, or draw a much bigger crowd our typical Granville Strip clubs can handle (The Commodore exempt of course), causing premature shutdowns or clusterfuck line-ups. You would think such mismanaged organizing would swear folks off from seeing another Sanchez show, and save themselves the stress of dealing with it again. I’m willing to bet, though, it will happen on this next visit, and all those who swore “never again” will go through it again. Seeing Roger live has become the equivalent of super-fancy shooters for his Vancouver fans: quite costly, very tasty, and no matter how much you suffer from them, you’ll still indulge again when given the chance.

Wait, that’s not entirely accurate. One other factor, one very important factor, contributes to Sanchez being the draw he is: da laydeez; lots and lots of young, flirtatious womenfolk. Roger’s reputation for great club nights in New York is world renown, and many gals abroad would love to have a taste of his slick city style. He’s become an ambassador of sorts of the Big Apple’s mysticism: going to a Sanchez night is akin to going to a fancy Manhattan club, and many urban girlie girls jump at the chance to live out a Sex In The City-esque night, even if only in spirit. Naturally, where the women go, the men follow.

With Sanchez’ second album - Come With Me - I get the suspicion Roger’s clued into where his biggest audience lies. While he’s always had a club-friendly appeal, it’s usually been balanced with house music tapped from the source: a funk thing, a soul thing, a spiritual thing, a yada yada etc. This album does away with most of that, aiming straight for the glitzy expensive clubs, and those who attend such venues -specifically, da laydeez.

Pop quiz: what kind of music does your typical clubbing minx enjoy the most? Easy answer: pick up any Hed Kandi release, or Ultra House Hits, or A Trip In House, or.. Well, you get the point. Basically, house music with fun vocal hooks and groovy rhythms; although not too complicated so she’ll embarrassingly stumble while drunkenly dancing. From beginning to end, Roger delivers those sorts of tracks on Come With Me, in a variety of flavors.

Lyrically, most stick to predictable themes. If a gal is singing, it’s about failed relationships, break-ups, or being flirty on a dancefloor. If Sanchez is singing (sometimes with a featured guest), it’s with smooth, sexy come-ons. Yeah, not much for the guys to dig here.

Musically, Sanchez brings a nice, if safe, assortment of style. Amongst the sort of clubby disco you’d expect from vocal heavy house, there’s also soul and Latin influences to be found, especially in the second half; plus, a Bhangra inspired track with Take A Chance. While none of it breaks new ground, it is all finely produced, and perfectly effective for the targeted environment.

Of course, appealing to the fairer sex is all fine and good, but is there anything on this the male-folk can listen to without feeling like his nuts have been chopped off? (Er... not that men can’t relate to themes of broken hearts and past relationships; it’s just usually done in a different tone when targeted towards them)

Well, opener track Turn On The Music aims to be a rabble-rousing party starter for anyone in the club, and while the hook has some catchiness at points, the whole of it unfortunately sounds flat given its intentions. Sanchez’ spoken-word recounts of bad luck in Again works well for both sexes, although it does come across more for the gals. And the blissy, Ibizan-tinged Soledad is fine either way, simply produced for chill-out situations.

That’s about it though. While the guys can still groove to these and enjoy them on a purely aesthetic level, I honestly can’t see many playing this at home unless they are entertaining their female friends in a pre-clubbing drink session. There’s very little here a house-head laying back, noggin noddin’ with Sennheiser headphones, will get out of Come With Me, as the song-writing aims for a very specific demographic: one that isn’t too interested in clever beats or innovative hooks. This’ll probably disappoint long-time Sanchez fans, as they’ve come to expect more from him than pure pop accessibility.

A sell-out? Perhaps, but as far as cross-over house music is concerned, Come With Me succeeds in its goals. Sanchez has delivered music that is certain to appeal to the ladies with sexy flair and simple fun wrapped in a slick presentation. Can’t fault it for that.