Moby - Last Night (Original TC Review)

Mute: 2008

(2013 Update:
Not much to add to this review, as it holds up just as fine as it did when it first came out, though calling it "his most accomplished album since Everything Is Wrong" is a bit of a stretch on my part. Kind of a shame this was just a one-off return to early club music on Moby's part, but it was only ever intended to be as such. I wonder if we might see another one though, what with classic house again back in vogue after a couple-year gap of not. Man, was 2008 ever a weird year for house music.)


IN BRIEF: The Moby ravers enjoyed returns.

I don’t think anyone expected Moby returning to dance music in such a fashion, if at all. Granted, he tested the waters a few years back with a Voodoo Child album, but for the most part everyone figured Mr. Hall’s most recognizable project had forever gone the way of quaint bittersweet pop-rock. Still, it’s not like the mainstream readily accepted Moby. Although they enjoyed the music off Play (if anything because you couldn’t escape it) and the odd tune here and there if it fit the times, Moby remained the butt-end of numerous jokes, an all-too easy target of ridicule.

Perhaps it isn’t surprising, then, that as he nears mid-life, Moby has begun reflecting, recalling a time and place one was accepted no matter who you were or what you did. The second Summer Of Love certainly was such a time, and thanks to anthems such as Go and Next Is The E, Mr. Hall emerged as an underground darling of the early American rave scene. So if such fond thoughts have been on his mind lately, producing an album which captures those free-wheeling hedonistic years in sixty-five minutes is an intriguing idea; the fact this comes at a point when classic house music is seeing something of a revival just so happens to be a bonus for both parties.

Still, there have already been plenty of question marks, accusations and critical responses to such an endeavor. Cynically, you have to wonder why Moby would go back to a sound he hasn’t touched on in over a decade, especially when his last Best Of release ignored nearly all of his pre-Play output. Also, will his current fanbase even be willing to accept such blatant romanticizing of early ‘90s dance music when it hasn’t been in vogue since Madonna’s Vogue? And does Moby even have much chance of standing toe-to-toe with admittedly much trendier revivalists like Hercules & Love Affair or Dixon?

Last Night will probably fly right over your head if you’ve been fussing over such thoughts. On this new album, Moby doesn’t seem to care whether the popular press or the bloggers or even the current crop of EDM followers accept his retro-direction; it’s primarily the old-schoolers whom enjoyed his early output that will dig on this. As much as he says this is a love-letter to New York City of the late 80s, Last Night is equally a love-letter to all those fans that gave Mr. Hall his big break, with the giddy rave vibes oozing from every sonic corner.

Were I allowed to wear my Nostalgia Headphones while reviewing Last Night, it’d easily earn high marks. Even without them, though, there is some gosh-darned good music to be had on here. Take Everyday Is 1989: it’s an incredibly simple track on paper, consisting of rolling pianos, soul-sista’ samples, and string stabs looping over vintage house beats. It should sound old, it should sound dated, it should sound like a bygone relic. Yet every time those pianos emerge - and I do mean every time - my head can’t help but bobble along. There’s a groove to be had here, my friends, and it’s more infectious than most of what’s come out from the house camps in the last few years.

Much of Last Nights works in this regard. Moby keeps things simple and to the point, doesn’t get bogged down in fancy gimmicks or overproduction, and maintains the old-school uplifting spirit throughout much of the album. And while the house cuts like Everyday Is 1989, Disco Lies, and I’m In Love received most of the pre-album buzz, there’s plenty of other EDM genres dabbled in as well. The Stars and 257.Zero tackles the rave end of the spectrum, while I Love To Move In Here adds some hip-house flavor. The latter portion of the album provides an ambient-house touch; however, aside from Sweet Apocalypse, these offerings aren’t nearly as interesting as the rest of Last Night, coming off as mere sonic doodles compared to some of Moby’s more famous downtempo tunes.

For as much as Last Night honors his roots, though, Moby hasn’t completely neglected some of the fresher influences of his discography. Material like the titular track, Ooh Yeah, Live For Tomorrow, and Hyenas finds blending of melancholic pop and lounge, especially so with the hidden bit of jazz tagged on at the end of the finale. Trumping it all though - and even the retro stuff - is Alice, which melds a whole pile of Moby-isms into a single track: blues-shuffle rhythms, squawking guitar licks, guest raps from Nigerian based group 419 Squad, catchy pop hooks... Lodging it smack in the middle of the album definitely helps prevent the whole of it from sounding like too much of a nostalgia love-in.

Ultimately, Moby’s latest is quite probably his most accomplished album since Everything Is Wrong. He may not be doing anything new on here but that’s beside the point - Last Night is the sound of a musician finding himself quite comfortable with his roots again, and proving he is more than capable of producing a song that remains just as timeless as the era it draws influence from. The mainstream media may not understand it (but, oh, they certainly do when R.E.M. does the same thing); long-time fans of electronic dance music will.

Juno Reactor - Labyrinth

Metropolis: 2004

Labyrinth feels like the culmination of years of experimentation coming together, talent finally reaching the vision Juno Reactor saw possible (holy shit, what a pretentious way to open a review...). There were early glimmers of Ben Watkins breaking his project out from bog-standard psy trappings, but it wasn't until Shango where he took his first proper risky steps. It was regarded as... well, I'll get to that eventually. It must have given Watkins a strong shot of confidence though, as Labyrinth goes full bore outside the psy comfort zone as anyone could get.

Right, so part of that was likely getting more soundtrack opportunities, and the success of The Matrix franchise didn’t hurt in giving Juno Reactor more exposure (not to mention greenbacks). It got Watkins thinking bigger and bolder while putting together Labyrinth, as there’s quite a cinematic tone to the whole album. The opening salvo of Conquistador I & II may as well be your first act – the former dark, quiet and moody as the atmosphere of some desolate Spanish landscapes reveals itself, the latter erupting into a big action set piece with those galloping beats, tribal drums, and snarling lyrics (Danny Trejo stars). It’s basically what the opening two cuts off Shango would sound like if they sexed it up and downed LSD-soaked tequila afterwards. Awesome!

The rest of Labyrinth plays out in similar fashion, tracks jamming various genres into a blender, and everything coming out tasty. Want a little more thrash in your Juno? Try Giant, but stay for the operatic vocals too. Still hanker for the old psy? Mona Lisa Overdrive’s got you covered, but with more tribal fusion than you got on Bible Of Dreams. One of the few folks that found Watkins’ best ever single was Pistolero? Here’s War Dogs for your fix, now with backing orchestra! Prefer the mellow moments on prior albums? The one-two soft-punch of Mutant Message and Angels And Men should serve you fine, though the former uses its calm as a prelude to a musical eruption mid-song.

All this is fine and dandy, but everyone knows you save your best for the climax at the end, and Navaras serves as a perfect capper to Labyrinth. Apocalyptic choir, piercing industrial synths and beats, orchestral swells, tribal chants, and a meditative breather in the middle before erupting with the bedlam at the end again. Wait, how am I fighting the final boss of a Final Fantasy game all of a sudden here?

I can see why Mr. Watkins felt compelled to explore ever further deviations from the psy sound he grew popular with on Gods & Monsters - how could he top Labyrinth? Whether it’s the best Juno Reactor album remains open to discussion, as many still prefer the older sound to the genre exploration found in the post-Shango albums, which admittedly continues to be hit or miss. Labyrinth finds the mark about as close to flawless as he’s gotten though, and is definitely worth your time and pennies.

Cheb i Sabbah - La Kahena

Six Degrees Records: 2005

Okay, I needed that break from this blog. Juggling it with near full-time work and scholastic endeavors was just too much to deal with. Brain drain on the job, coupled with necessary research and study for essays, there was nothing left in the think-tank for music reviews, even ones as concise as the ones I write here. This semester’s over now, so let’s get back to electronic music criticism. What’s next in my alphabetical list, then? Cheb i Sabbah’s La Kahena? Uh, what the heck is this? Traditional Middle Eastern music? I don’t know a damn thing about this stuff. I… need to research some of this. Oh, God, no! I beg of you, no more researching! My brain can’t take- *grey matter implodes*

Right, I should have known Six Degrees Records would release just as much proper 'world music' as their world beat offerings, but how was I to know Cheb i Sabbah would put together a project of this nature? I've only known of the chap through his DJ gigs (almost primarily at hippie trance parties), and few scattered productions on regular world dub-beat compilations. It was enough to pique my curiosity enough to pick up La Kahena blind, and hoo, was this something I was not expecting in the slightest.

I won't deny enjoying the music here, but it’s on a 'dumb' level, the sort of basic musical appreciation that comes with most things of a rhythmic, melodic, or harmonic nature. Despite the use of drum programming and synth effects, La Kehena is about as traditional as this music gets. Which tradition, you ask? I... honestly don't know. I'm guessing it's Middle Eastern, though maybe North African too, given it was recorded in Morocco. Bottom line is I have no cultural connection to this album (much less able to understand the language it's sung in), so any significance of content beyond “cool beat, neat sounds, heartfelt passion; me like” is utterly lost on my way-Western sensibilities. Maybe if I do a little resear- *grey matter implodes*

Mr. Sabbah must have strongly believed in the potential of this album, as he rounded up tons of musicians to perform on it (how much he contributes, I haven't a clue). Oh, there's Bill Laswell again, doing bass. Karsh Kale, a Six Degrees alum, also shows up. I don't recognize anyone else here. Hell, I don't even recognize some of the instruments they play. An oud? A ney? You got me, names sounding about as foreign as I'm sure a dobro sounds to folks of Yemen. Whatever they are, I bet they sound good on this 5.1 Dolby mixdown I sadly cannot enjoy (damn paper-thin apartment walls).

Is La Kehena worth your time? Sure, I guess. At worst, it'll expose you to a form of music that's just as lively as anything you'll hear in a club, perhaps more so by tapping into the communal nature of such performances. In the end, it's a great educa- *grey matter implodes*

Vector Lovers - iPhonica

Soma Quality Recordings: 2013

I had no idea Martin Wheeler was still making music. Part of that's my fault, as I failed to keep tabs on his output during the late '00s. For as much I enjoyed his debut album, there was a sense the themes explored would be a one-time shot, interviews for subsequent albums claiming he was in a different frame of mind than before. Yeah, that's musician code-speak for “if you liked my old work, chances are you won't like this newer stuff.” I only glanced at Afterglow and Capsule For One, with little giving me reason to spring for the albums proper. Maybe I will sometime down the road, but as Afterglow came out way back in 2007, I figured the Vector Lovers story was concluded, the 2011 singles collection Electrospective being the final chapter.

Maybe that release generated renewed interest and fresh listeners, because iPhonica came out just this year – it would explain the similar covers. Is it all original material since Electrospective, or had Wheeler been sitting on it unreleased? Indications seem to suggest the former, but there's something very reminiscent of his earliest work on this album, a similar melancholic tone that also ran through Vector Lovers.

His debut was a wonderful excursion through electro-anime ambient and cool robot funk, which interestingly gets linked to acts like Boards Of Canada on its page with Lord Discogs. I never associated Vector Lovers with such music, but I can see why the Lord That Knows All would. There’s a similar feeling of nostalgia in their music, of times past and memories hazily reminisced. Boards Of Canada often recall childhood innocence, Burial of those post-clubbing 5am ventures in deserted urban neighbourhoods; Vector Lovers, especially on iPhonica, conjures up wistful longing for earliest, heartfelt intimacy in a world grown more isolated by technology. With titles like Yesterday Is Gone, Big City Loner, and Sender To Nowhere, how could one not picture mournful glances in city park fountains at twilight (probably with cherry blossom petals billowing in the background)? The aesthetic of Vector Lovers’ music may come off simple and even youthfully naïve at times, but damn if it doesn’t seductively draw you back to those years when youthful naivety was a common, welcome occurrence.

That said, iPhonica comes off rather slight as an album. Most of the tracks are simple little pieces, often finishing just as you're getting warmed to them. And while it does flow reasonably well from beginning to end, it doesn't have the narrative strength prior Vector Lovers albums have, the back end almost drifting by without much notice. Plus, I cannot deny wishing for a few more uptempo numbers, but that's just personal bias (Electrosuite was such a mint tune).

If you're new to Martin Wheeler's project, iPhonica may not be the best diving off point. On the other hand, there's enough musical merit here to at least draw in a few curious listens. Let's hope there's more from Vector Lovers in the near future too.

Various - Klassic Kickbacks 4

(~): 2003

Having gotten (mostly) credible classics out of the way, you’re damn straight I’d make an all euro-dance burned CD. Everything on here had been on a previously owned disc before, but when the Great Pawning Of 2002 started, most of my generic commercial dance CDs was the first to go. Don’t worry, they wouldn’t be alone - even those backwoods used stores had ample Dance Mixes, MC Mario, and Chris Sheppard compilations taking up shelf space. But man, it wasn’t long before my heart grew fond for the cheesy delights of Haddaway, Black Box, and Captain Hollywood Project. Why oh why did I toss the What Is Love? man’s debut album into the microwave during that one party? Oh yeah, because there were only three good tracks on it. Woo, look at those sparkles fly!

Those three tracks were What Is Love? (duh), Life (Everybody Needs Somebody To Love), and Rock My Heart, which were about as euro dance as euro dance danced (if you cannot dance). The rest of the album was totally forgettable (no, really, I can’t remember how the other tunes sounded), but at least it wasn’t as abysmal as Captain Hollywood Project’s Love Is Not Sex. More & More is a bonafide classic of euro house music, encapsulating everything glorious and pure of the genre (stop sniggering, you). Lord help me though, the subsequent eleven tracks off that album are an utter blank. You’d think Nosie Katzmann – he of Abfahrt Records fame – would have produced at least one more killer cut on Love Is Not Sex, but nope, not a damn thing I can recall.

If there is an album I might seek out again, it’d be Black Box’s Dreamland, they of the brilliant Italo house tunes Strike It Up and RRBLIIIIDDEE On Time. I only had a tape of it (pro pawning tip: if you’re offered peanuts for a tape, take them, because at least it’s food), so wasn’t sorry to see it go. Another house act that had huge hits was Reel 2 Real, of whom I snagged up a dub version of I Like To Move It. Seeing as how Erick Morillo somehow maintained a credible career following the commercial success of this project, I’m somewhat curious to hear the album proper, Move It!. Odder dance hits have held up to modern scrutiny, after all.

Speaking of odd dance hits, that’s what rounds out the rest of Klassic Kickbacks 4. The Goodmen’s marching-band romp of Give It Up, the sports stadium chant-anthem Fluxland from XL, Afrika Bambaataa’s euro dance hit Feel The Vibe (because really, the Planet Rock guy doing euro dance…?), and Robin S’ Show Me Love. Oh wait, that one’s not odd at all, though definitely an odd-girl out on this CD. I also had the ’94 remix of Hithouse’s Jack To The Sound Of The Underground, but lost it due to the eventual degradation of the burned disc. If only there was a way to get that track again…

Various - Klassic Kickbacks 2

(~): 2002

Electronic music is replete with classics, but for the longest time difficult to procure. Some of the best tunes were only available on long out-of-print vinyls, and while there might be occasional compilations gathering up a pile of greats, most of those could only be had on ridiculously expensive import CDs (woe be the Western Canadian). Other times, ace tunes came cobbled with crappy albums, eventually new homes in used shops during financially lean times and fried in microwaves during drunkenly drunk times. Ultimately, the whole point in my starting a mix CD series called Klassic Kickbacks was to gather or re-gather old tunes I figured would never find their way into my music collection otherwise. Of course, re-issues, online streaming services, and not-shit retrospective compilations makes such gathering a moot point now, but it’s fun listening to them in this order again.

I made four volumes of Klassic Kickbacks, but have since lost two (burned CDs don't last as long as official ones? Who knew.). I can't even remember what was on them, maybe some old Orb and KLF. For Klassic Kickbacks 2, however, I wanted to go all the way back, opening things up with Kraftwerk (Radioactivity and The Robots), and book-ending it with Trans Europe Express. Thing I remember most about getting those off of AudioGalaxy is the chap I downloaded from bumped me to the front of his queue because I had “great taste in music”. Oh yeah, and I follow those pioneering Germans with Boney M's Nightflight To Venus. Hey, it's technically keeping a ‘70s German theme, which is also why I threw in U96’s Das Boot, creating a proper link to more current sounding electronic music. Things go wonky on here after that.

I’d grabbed a bunch of Aphex Twin, but never could figure out where to put what. Schottkey 7th Path though, I knew I needed that on a CD pronto (Selected Ambient Works 85-92 was stupid expensive back in the day), as that was... ah, I’ll get into it later. For now, it made its way onto Klassic Kickbacks 2, and, in a move that baffles me to this day, is followed upon by East 17’s House Of Love. Lord Discogs has it down as progressive house, but damn, it sounds like a boy pop group trying to do rave music. Hell, East 17 looks like that. Maybe 2002 Sykonee had a good chuckle over that contrast, but 2013 Sykonee ain’t laughing.

The rest of this CD has well-known ‘electronica’ tunes rounding things out (Adamski’s Killer, The Chemical Brothers’ Morning Lemon, Keoki’s Catepiller, and Wink), plus Deep Forest’s Coral Lounge because I didn’t bother keeping the Strange Days soundtrack when I was pawning discs for ramen noodles to get by (I told you there were financial lean times in my past). Except for that bizarre middle, Klassic Kickbacks 2 was one of the better mix CDs I made. Shame getting so many of these on re-issues has rendered it utterly redundant now.

Felix Da Housecat - Kittenz And Thee Glitz (2013 Update)

Emperor Norton: 2001/2004

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review.)


Boy, reading that old review sure feels like a time warp. I'll grant it's almost eight years old now, so thoughts and opinions do change in the years between, but it's clear I'm still in the afterglow of my electroclash marriage, despite the genre having been subsumed into electro house by 2006. Oddball gimmick aside, I can’t imagine myself writing anything like it ever again. I’ve yet to come across a fresh ‘dumb-fun’ genre of music that I enjoyed as much as that one, and as I get up in these years, the allure of ‘dumb-fun’ music wanes, my tastes maturing with sophistication and class. Now where’s that new space synth compilation?

Actually, the real reason I and so many others got into electroclash and all things ‘80s revivalist was how it felt like reacquainting with an old friend. It wasn’t so much a wave of retro admiration or nostalgic memories spurring it on, but the realization of, “Hey, why did we stop listening to music like this?”

Basically, ‘90s music ideology could be summed up thus: if it sounds like the ‘80s, it sucks. The classic tale is how grunge kicked hair metal to the curb, and hip-hop saw quite an upheaval too, but electronic music was no less guilty. Classic electro all but vanished during the Clinton Administration, a few stalwarts like Aux 88 keeping it alive while everyone else moved onto evolutions of the sound (Florida breaks, technobass, etc.). Synth pop... hoo boy, did that ever get shunted by euro dance and its ilk. It’s amazing groups like Pet Shop Boys, The Human League, and such survived long enough through those lean times to be ‘re-discovered’ at the turn of the century (“um, we never went away, y’know”).

This isn’t to fault the ‘90s disassociation with the ‘80s, mind you, as electronic music took many brilliant steps forward during that decade; if forgetting the past to move into the future was what it took, then so be it. Sometime in the late ‘90s, however, a few scattered producers remembered all the brilliant steps electronic music took during the Reagan Administration too, not to mention the warmth those old synths carried compared to the slick polish the latest club cuts came with. Maybe some time away from electro-proper was required to appreciate the joys of synth pop, hi-NRG, and italo disco again, and Felix da Housecat was there to capitalize on our old-new fondness for the sound on Kittenz And Thee Glitz.

One more thing I neglected touching upon on that original review is the difference of this Stateside version of the album. There’s the changed cover, obviously, opting for a ‘60s spy thriller poster instead of a celebrity gossip rag mock-up the UK got. And since this is Emperor Norton, the US got two bonus remixes at the end, a Thin White Duke mix of Silver Screen Shower Scene and Röyksopp having a go with What Does It Feels Like? They’re... eh.

Banco de Gaia - Kincajou

Planet Dog: 1995

Aw yeah. Now we're talking. Kincajou was already one of Banco de Gaia's more captivating tunes off Last Train To Lhasa, and whether it was the spacey, tribal techno version on the main album, or the epic thirty-six minute Duck! Asteroid!! ambient version on CD2, there was more than enough to go around. Yet here we are with a single to itself, with none other than Oliver F'n Lieb and Speedy F'n J, two producers at the height of their mid-'90s careers, getting their hands on it! (Toby Marks also provides a new remix of his own) How can this not be awesome? Uh...

I guess it’s presumptuous assuming an Oliver Lieb remix would sound exactly like something from his L.S.G. work, but damn it, tracks like Hearts and Hidden Sun Of Venus were among his most popular cuts in 1995. And if not borrowing elements from L.S.G., surely folks assumed something similar would come from remixing the closest thing to trance Banco de Gaia had ever done. Okay, he did, sort of, but tech trance, really? The sub-genre was barely even a thing yet, The Black Series still a couple years away. That he would go down this bangin' route had to befuddle almost everyone involved. Lord knows it still befuddles me. None of the spacey attributes remain, opting instead for squalling sirens, burbling acid, and pumping rhythms (not to mention those distinctive Lieb claps). Aside from a couple token re-used samples, Oliver’s go with Kincajou sounds totally unrelated. This was some left-over Spicelab material before, wasn’t it.

If you think that’s weird, then get a load of Speedy J’s mix. I’m not even sure what those in charge thought was going to result in getting the Dutch techno don on Kincajou - maybe a Fill type track? But hey, this is Marks doing techno, so maybe Paap can do it even more techno ...which he did done. It’s not a particularly weird remix, though if you’re unfamiliar with Speedy J’s sound, it too can throw you for a loop. It’s definitely one of the oddest pairings you’ll ever find in the Banco de Gaia discography, as his brand of proggy world beat and ambient dub is worlds apart from the world of techno. I’m more fascinated by the theoretical conversation that resulted in this remix than anything musically related. Did appearing back-to-back on the Positiva compilation Earth Trance have anything to do with it?

Oh, speaking of which, why couldn’t we get the Wild Monkey Fever Remix on here? Instead, there’s Here Come The Norse Gods, which is essentially the yang to Duck! Asteroid!!’s yin when it comes to Kincajou - it’s just as spacey as the original, but far more brisk and bangin’. Not as interesting though, which can be said for this whole single. Considering the names involved, you can’t help but come away disappointed. Whatever awesome music you preconceive with that first glance is likely better than what’s on disc.

Sounds From The Ground - Kin

Waveform Records: 1995/1996

What the Hell? I know the first track, Gather. Wasn’t it on a Coldcut mix CD? Yeah, it was, Tone Tales From Tomorrow Too. But I don't recall seeing Sounds From The Ground in the tracklist. Don't tell me this was sampled from it. It's pretty damn close, but kinda different too. I'm confused. Help me, oh Lord Discogs! *brief moment later*. Ah, the group that initially made Gather, Path, was a project by Elliot Morgan Jones and Alan Bleay. Guess Mr. Jones took it for use when he and Nick Woolfson started their Sounds From The Ground work. And there are quite a few prior projects between both their discographies too. Did they recycle other material for their debut Ground Sounds album, Kin? It would explain the disparate tone running through this CD.

I'm not sure what prompted the duo to initially hook up, but their first production, Triangle, must have convinced them to keep making music together forever after. I can hear why, as the tune's a wonderful blend of early '90s ambient techno and dub, definitely a standout from a time when fans were spoiled for choice of this sound. Beyond snapped it up for their fourth and last volume in the Ambient Dub series, and naturally Waveform did the same, also offering them Stateside distribution of Kin.

Getting back to that ‘disparity’ I mentioned at first, folks coming to Kin expecting more Triangles would definitely be thrown for a loop by the opener Gather - on an acidy trip-hop tip, it’s small wonder Coldcut used the original version for a mix. Follow-up Drawn To A Woman is also in this vein, though sounding closer to acid jazz in this case. But yes, ambient dub be where those Sounds From The Ground come from, and the middle portion of Kin indulges in the genre a fair bit. Some of it’s fine – I can’t resist the pure dub funk of Loaf - but others are rather rambly, never going much of anywhere, seemingly content to remain wallpaper.

The last two cuts stand out as oddities as much as the first two, giving Kin a curious consistency, but not one that’ll have you reaching for a full playthrough. Where The Wild Things Were borrows elements from Gather, then throws it into a standard world beat jam. Banco de Gaia it ain’t. And finishing things off is... psy dub? That’s unexpected, and Seven Sisters is okay as a mid-‘90s example of the sound, but Simon Posford and his ilk have spoiled us with fresher takes on the genre since.

So Kin is a mixed bag, all things considered. Triangle is a great track, but it’s been whored to tons of compilations over the years - getting this album solely for it isn’t worth it. Jones and Woolfson were still discovering their sound here, which is interesting for those intrigued by their discography. It’s not an essential purchase though, most of the music on display following tropes rather than defining them.

Radiohead - Kid A

EMI Music Canada: 2000

The most important album to have, if you want to have a credible taste in music. That's right, Boomers, your 'most important albums' are no longer relevant! Dark Side Of The Moon? Pet Sounds? Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band?? Pft, as if they could compare to the true importance of Radiohead's most important album. Your old, fuddy-duddy classic be-bop is old, old timers. This one, this defines a generation. Not just any generation, but all generations. Bach couldn't compare to Radiohead. Nirvana couldn't compare to Radiohead. Hank Williams Sr, Jr, and III can't stand against the might of Radiohead. Maybe Miles Davis, Aphex Twin, and The Stanley Brothers can be held in the same breath as Radiohead, but those artists never earned the coveted Seal Of Pretentious Perfection from Pitchfork. Never, I says!

Okay, even the douchiest McHipster skinny-pants wouldn't come off that stupid, but man, the way so many contemporary indie rags went on about Kid A, you'd think that was the common line of thought. In some regards, I can't blame them for the over-reaction of adulation. Here it was, an album that our generation could claim as a modern work of art, one that could be held in the highest esteem along side all those Boomer greats that get carted out for regular Rolling Stone “best all-time” duty. And what was even better, Kid A was something we figured our parents wouldn't quite understand, what with all those electronic noises, effects, and tinkering that the guys at Warp Records had been doodling about with for the past decade. This was music that was looking to the future as much as utilizing the past, thus making it ours, ours, ours! What's that, mums and pops, you don't get the droning ambient bliss of Treefingers or the glitchy manipulation of Thom Yorke's voice on Everything In Its Right Place? Of course you don't.

Actually, I must say something that'll make me come off as the ultimate hipster around: I was into Kid A before it was cool. “How can that be possible,” you ask, “when the album was considered cool almost as soon as it the shelves?” Yeah, that was one of the perks about working a music shop, getting CDs before street date and such. Even ahead of throwing it on for a demo, I knew Radiohead's fourth would be special – no popular band makes album art and packaging that unique without something equally original committed to disc. I only had a passing respect for the band (OK Computer had some good tunes), but little of their output made me want to dig into their discography. And even after picking up Kid A, that feeling remains.

Therein lies this album's strength. You don't have to be a fan of Radiohead, indie rock, or whatever to enjoy it. All that's required is an appreciation for music and the limitless potential it holds. Just, y'know, don't be a smug, fedora-wearing, scarf-snuffling twat about it.