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Fave Records of 1998

Pulling the Faves of 98 together, I was surprised to find shitloads of records that I liked; surprised, because all through the year, my feeling--corroborated in countless conversations with friends and fellow observers--was that 1998 was the worst year for a long time. (Since 1985?). Disparate delights in abundance, but a stale odor of stagnation seeping from virtually every scene and style; sonic narratives petering out or reaching an impasse; genres splintering into microgenres and tiny sects; nostalgia and old skool wistfulness galore; lots of motion simultaneous with the sense of it all going nowhere and meaning... less. Go figure. Here, at least, is the unexpected cornucopia of sounds that aroused me the most in 1998.

2-STEP GARAGE

The book's verdict on speed garage was that it's "a composite (house plus jungle) where drum and bass was a mutant (hiphop times techno)", that where jungle "twisted and morphed its sources; as yet, an equivalent warp factor is barely audible in speed garage". 1998 was when the warp factor really began to make itself heard, with producers reasserting the breakbeat legacy of jungle and creating the strange nu-funk style called 2-step--basically slow-motion jungle, something for the ladies massive.
At the same time as being lover's jungle, 2-step is also like a UK response to American R'n'B. Timbaland's twitchy hypersyncopation has long been widely attributed to a drum and bass influence, something steadfastly denied by Tim 'n' Missy. All through '98 you could hear that imagined (?) compliment being repaid by the children of jungle, in the form of 2-step. Dropping the four-to-the-floor house pulse and replacing it with Timbaland's falter-funk kick drum, producers like Dreem Teem, Dem 2, Chris Mac, Steve Gurley, et al are basically making smoov R'n'B filtered through a post-Ecstasy sensorium: midtempop bump'n' grind; sped-up, succulent cyborg-diva vocals; a playa-pleasing patina of deluxe production. At the same time, 2-step is geared towards the UK polydrug culture (where cocaine has usurped E as the paradigm drug, the vibe-setter), so alongside the sexed-up, VIP opulence there's all these dark-but-sensual elements (warped vocal ectoplasm, convulsive hypersyncopations) that hint at coke psychosis on the scene's horizon.
More on this in a thinkpiece in the April 99 issue of The Wire (it'll also later get posted in director's cut form on the site--footnotes galore!). Right now, the specifics--in no particular order, my fave 2-step tunes of 1998.
DEM 2--Destiny (Sleepless) [Locked On]
--Destiny (New Vocal Mix) [Locked On]
U.S. ALLIANCE --Grunge Dub/All I Know [Locked On]
GROOVE CONNEKTION 2--Club Lonely (DEM 2 Don't Cry Dub) [Locked On]
Dem 2--Dean Boylan and Spencer Edwards--are the outfit whose music makes the most convincing argument that 2-step is a brand nu-funk for the Nine Nine. One listen to "Destiny (Sleepless)" is enough to tell you it's not house music; it barely has any relationship to garage as hitherto known. So deceptively simple is its groove (every element--and they're all simultaneously melodic/rhythmic/textural--dovetails with a Zen perfection) that it's almost impossible to describe. It doesn't sound overtly avant-garde or abstract, but I defy you to name a record before 1998 it resembles or owes much to: the tremulous, heartbroken cyborg vocal faintly recalls Zapp, the darting and stinging synth-lick recalls Gary Numan, there's an electro flavor in there, but that's about it. Crisp and juicy, joyous yet tense, "Destiny" is one of those key records in the hardcore/jungle/speed garage continuum, like 2 Bad Mice's "Waremouse", Renegade's "Terrorist" or Gant's "Sound Bwoy Burial", that announces a paradigm shift, codifies a new style, sets the blueprint.
Dem 2's "Don't Cry Dub" of "Club Lonely"--like the original "Destiny", released way back in late '97--has a similar do-androids-weep-electric-tears? feel. Here you can really hear Dem 2's virtuosity at the diva-manipulation techniques that Bat from ukdance calls "vocal science." Texturally, they scintillate the voice, fluorescize it, make it gleam and refract as though you're hearing it through ears wet with tears; rhythmically, they shred the vocal into micro-syllable and sub-phoneme particles--cyborg-sniffles, sounds as fleetingly iridescent as spit-bubbles in the corner of a sobbing mouth--and make them syncopate against the groove (pure Timbaland twitch-and-bump).
"Grunge Dub" by U.S. Alliance--a Dem 2 alias--shows the duo's darker direction for 1999: a rhythm matrix so assymetrical, angular and stop-start off-kilter it's almost impossible to dance to (this is 2-step's big break with house's E-d up 4-to-the-floor egalitarianism--you have to be really good at dancing to move to these beats), and a twisted, gibbering groan-riff of a male vocal.

CHRIS MAC--Plenty More/Get It [Confetti]
Possibly the most accomplished and inventive producer to arise out of UK garage last year, Chris Mac is doing as much as Dem 2 to prove that 2-step is a new thing. "Plenty More" is silky, svelte sensuality corroded with darkness: a simultaneously brittle and supple rhythm track dominated by squishy, spongy snares (possibly reversed), strings that slash across the stereofield like the orchestral equivalent of a skid, and a mix so shiny you almost have to squint your ears against its harsh gloss glare. The vocal is interesting too, plugging into garage's rapacious appetitiveness (all those divas demanding "give me", "I need it"). The voice is ambiguously pitched, recalling Prince's sped-up alter-ego Camille on "If I Was Your Girlfriend"--the lyrics go "not a little girl anymore/used to be the one I adore/but there's plenty more fish in the sea/for me", but you're never sure if it's a diva putting down a guy and asserting her sexual autonomy, or a playa putting a girl in her place by telling her she's disposable, replaceable. Either way, "Plenty More" evokes the coked-up roving eye feasting its gaze on the sexual bounty of the nightclub's babe-arama. "Get It" is even more rapacious, transmitting an ants-in-your-pants alloy of desperation and desire. Brass stabs and jungalistic sub-bass pressure-drops weave around a dense web of drum some of which (in a typical 2-step sleight of subtle avant-gardism) reveal themselves on close inspection as made of the human voice: hiccups, chokings, winces, gasps and stutters.
OPERATOR and BAFFLED--"Things Are Never (STEVE GURLEY Remix) [Locked On]
LENNY FONTANA--"Spirit of the Sun" (STEVE GURLEY Remix) [Puu\Tg[i`Rtx€jr^ZfPVg{VCaheTUOVL4SEv?tiZOMScdG^>km=B\b/WJVrS\ibeoY~ƒkƒd‹vg}wn{ƒ~zk‰ukQ„YrujmkUs^†cqhuMnmooophs…›‡‰£€‚’«“¤œˆ˜–Ž˜¢ŽžŒ…¬¡©…¥¯Šœ£ºšƒ¬~®‚€Ÿœ¡x¬–€˜š¹• ÀœÃž¯½¡“¦«¤£“£«‡—‚ˆŽ„gŽŸ„–ŠŸ–|›‚”Žœ‰¥žv“•’—zŸ˜ƒ™ƒ|’Šˆ}ƒ…‹‚‚‰‡ˆ~poˆuszu^xfrq|lyx{q¢{“Šv™”‘Žˆžt“‡™ˆ’†¾†¨£˜¢…‰u…nlox˜bpy^‡ty†p€as|‚yŸƒƒ—‡©“¬¦™ª…… §›¦®œœœ”Äž™†všŽžŠ€Ž‡‹Œ‰~Šq“}’€|•‡xšš°š‰‘Ššˆ‹ˆƒƒ–|Xswsl}rm{Skkagpivpe^anf^{Z„ptzyVt[ip_NcyLQ`R[YIVr[juPomP\sEWajIIEDYMSNyXUwPwerfrqXuko‡ƒt–|n•~~w}oetwvi‡\…]erjeupdt\Zlgds_sƒjoˆ‹Œ ŠŠ•’‰…¤˜‡¤…¬‹Ž¢ž¨Ÿ˜¡“ Ÿ „²¥¤¤œ˜¯ Ž¡ž …”—Š…’˜–Š£ ˜œ£¸ª¾¢¡¬œ’‹ƒœ‘‚–—z‰r’„}xš~€¦‰‘’’…ŠnŠ‰†z˜Š}˜ŽŒ„Œ|}Šqr‰u}}€tcsŒ`fmheqn{u^nzhq‚’sx˜˜{–~x™„{‚–{Œ’†ž¦Œ—Œ•sx~~v]]lyq€qYa{hxmjtios„p|…{Š‡z†›mŒ}ˆœ©’•¢‡“‘¢™„œŸ”™¤ ¦¢}ŽŽ}zˆ„~xœ•}~€y‚†m‚vy™Š|~”¨Ž…‘ˆ‘„…£wusrmn{Yjhk[XoxihcwdYX_dKHaVuhupslelanRg\UYc\M]GbLdeUqjZ^jJ\dXfQSOU\F8KJS_ibq^[\koed^ptdƒ{‚zs€‹tpzojc]oŒqjjwkrbZ|]bXbz`i\sjm`{ƒ’‚˜¨Žw––Ž‹‘£Ž§¥”—« ¦‰¦¡˜•Žž™¦œŸ¨–¡®™˜”—Ž”•‘¡¤©Ÿœ˜–Ÿ¨³»µ±¬©—˜ §’“–•Š†ŒŒ{y…Œ…‹{x‰}„š¨”’ƒ†‡x‚}Žv……š‘„†Œ…€Œ€“{n‹‚wˆˆtzmy}vrqxo{y…xyn}ƒxˆ£Œ…’‘‰„ƒƒ~†z…”§ ²¢’‘‹~uzh|oyqnw{x‰|hŒrn‰‹„˜Š‰Ž‚–‘†š™Ÿ™¢˜’œŠ‹Š’ ¢ º¥²œ¢–™|‹x‚‹‰~œŒ‹„ˆ•€‚{ƒŽ…Š†Ž‹ˆ— ››Œ”˜§”†Œq‚„~ppm€upc€ghlcjYXhXVYilqjiw}]pmaeb`Xl[^a\\f^cprdmpRfa_ZVWY^LKRFJEIPZQWlqiefgoihdxls{…‡{{€‡„kqlsr^vp~lmmouddkipfamlj`duŠƒŠ‹—‘’ŸŽ‘‚‹›–“—™“™¦˜ª˜™ªŸ¢šŒ˜—‰š’¡š—š›§›™Ÿ˜”ŽŽ ”Š‘–‘—¥¨”ž›œœŒª´ª¨¢Ÿ•£Ž¤œ‡Œ”Š‹…‚‚~j€‡‚ƒ~~}’„“Ÿ“ˆ~|y~{‚~‡w‚…ˆw‡}ƒƒr„q}z}wyxogmubo_rfuowxrizon‹‰ –¢…„‰un|mz}„•¡¥ž–Žˆ’ƒrmzrmvwlw|u€}ztttz}r€Œ†Ÿ‹Ž‘…ƒ•‹†’˜‘•„ŠŒŽ†‰‹Œ…••™Ÿ ‘ ¢˜ ‰ytnp‡yt‚ˆƒ†ƒƒu€oyr„tx{x€xi…Ž“ˆŠ¥•Œxˆww€}n`ƒxs{eordeelmPY_W\Xenxs^bwqckZm^cZ`dUgfkniizh]cqbSa``R\XQXB;HOEFN[_n`gjo]cie_]nrfcmv{{ƒ€ttlgj_chuqfd`wY]kjghfjuyhqŒ’‡‘ˆš‡¢€–ˆ–˜“‰–£˜‘›†—Ž…ž”¤›—™ª¨ª ¼¥£¯©”™¡¦¨™˜¢“ž¦§ª¢œ–‰™’•¤Œ’¬Ÿ¡œŒ˜‘ˆ‹‚€kqogq{}„ˆ•—©›”š…z…ˆ‹œƒ‘‘~y‰zzs‚qjzs}rqndsli`Y\dfdhggv}Œƒ„¥²¬¯¯¢ž‘‹Š€z‹†ˆ”¬§±•”‘„xvsrlpqnvrv€‹€v}ro|tzŽ›ž¦¦¶¢™£°µ¨›´¯›¦¤ž£¡ ¦™µ³¬§Ÿ› šŒ‹„xngmtxps~|~qrl`me^iY^ccagfffr…–œ—†Œ€z‡‡}|zxƒˆ|Œzxxz}edomjlmsp~‚“„qpˆŒ|qysnwff‰w{v…‚oyjdc]_TP[USXHII67?:DGEDENX[`NgbQ[_mtlio„“‰‰ˆ‰{x‚~’ˆ|‡oupajgdYa[w–‰—{Œ…„’Š•††Š œœ˜•Šœ£›—ž˜ž™‰–¢“˜¡¯¯©¢ °²¥«²¥²¡œº¦ Ÿ¢²›“£ž—Ž–›‹Š¨ŸŠ€‹{{x‰nkyqi^gbgld…†}„Œ|~}‚}€zpqsruxjtuxltvrukejunbmmcgkfprknz{}rt‹€€Ž…’¡¥©«‘ˆƒumrˆ†€š£—¡¯›˜˜•‹—˜•—†{ƒŽœ‹}…Š…Ž…´µ¨¢««œ˜‘‰—™Ÿ—ŽŠŠˆ~xux‰~s€Š„zxkqtyzsoijWPoƒ{trpƒ‰„}y„}st|utwprphllriqƒŠŽ~y€w{ty‡wjiipqxrlmmfpicnjWvjqmhZRJTlcdtont€{zy|„„}xs}qolhenihemoYNL\LRQNZWY^kmWYlmfiuqtiZl‚|{rvtc`if`Q_hnoeclrYYgihSdils˜ž“••œƒ{ššŽ‘ŒŽ”–‘‘‘“˜ŽŽ— ™Š‡‹–ž§°¦¸®¬¼µ«ž±¨Ÿ¾¥¬¥©¤§« ©¨¥£˜šš˜•‹™§¤’›œš‰•|„~v}pp{„v}‘ƒƒ€…†ƒ~€Š…eef_Tqyelwi†xxxrhneay^Yh[dic_bihngfll`[ij~vˆžŽŒ“‘‰‹”ˆˆˆ‘œ—©£¯À¨§±¸—œ ‹Œˆ€{†}v‡ƒ|t~‡yy„¥©£¦’¤”’•ž¥¦œ™Ÿ¥š”¢Œ šŽ¤«¢šš®«©§•¦˜©ž£€…Œ{‚……}w™Œ‡‹y…‹xwy…{jpkqi`ns{}›}€‰uy„…xsohjja_bc^VbQMNP?IJYKQ^LQIRFVlfhe{tpthqtt~{|‚v~Š{wnmqnih]ad^TZf^Y`f`htrgsmbhnrmjusˆx–„‚~~fkwvtkows|ytzqs|~yv{‹–—”•—ž“”››¢¥¦™¡¡¤ž•”™‘˜“Ž’Žƒ‹œŠ‹ˆ‚Ž„’—Ÿ’–•Ž¢˜šš’¦¥¤–™‡‡…ƒ‹}††Ž•Œ“ˆ…’–’Ÿ”‰Žˆ‚„x|‚}x}„‹€y‹Š{‚|urrry{ˆuovskk|qx~ŠŽŒ€‡~…‚w{toeb^jumhptrftwsn|ƒvso‡‰€~wrp{txxv…Ž‘—‘Ž–‘‹‡s{‡‚ƒ‰„{||z~Žš±«¤ ›™™”“˜°¥ ©¦£•—”Ž‘“™ž šš–„†„ŠŠ…Ž—ˆ…}„Šˆ†|xswqmhojgdgfmqqtrry‚„~|s„Œ†€ztsmquppqia^]\RPOJIQTQ\^ZSQRSNayusuvoolmrqnlhgec^[ZZRUQNRLLKKJFHIJOPZllljjrvrurqpk|‚‚€‡‡„€yroliijejjyƒ‚…ƒˆ‹‹‡…”—££ž¥¨£ž™˜¦¥Ÿž››¥¤¢ ¡››˜˜œœ¡œšœ œ•Ž˜›—œ¢œ˜•™¢˜•œ˜—™˜”‘ˆ……„‡„…††…‚|}yy|‹Œˆ…}|vutxy{zzw{ƒ~}|xwrpke^epqqomnlklnpƒ‹œ››—”Œ‡†‚|zvvt~€|{ysvrstty…††‚„ud}—”«‹‹‹zgk‡š± ‘˜†x„žœ©”‡}h‚’¡¯¥„–qƒŒ…¦«¢Ë¸¥³ ˜¤•ž©·¶»©—Ÿž‘˜žŸŒ‹˜ ³ª¯¬tŽœ‚Šœ«£{Žxrœ{v ˜ƒ{xex‡w©š‡xTO]|…r‡‡zŒqQqqXƒ€€¤‘“~rt…”«»±ªy=#0F]B7!&/9JYm˜™‹Ÿu^STtqw•°¹½¹¡“§ž–‚‘•—ŠSXd3(%$'(97J<1.&,-CJM3&8/7XU>5IP8UZM^vdek˜ƒ‹{rki_‰…w“¢¤œŒokk‹°¾²¡¢²£Ž›Ê²ºª´±§¯²¼´–¾‘uŠŽ‰urŠ}„‹w¨{{za^yŠŠ“£‹]le`sU]…†yyh;fnwnª¥ se„iv˜µÉ²†|rg–´£¤¡–›‹œw‹²¤š¡Ÿ™€{iqzgx™xo]QCDA=C=gp`OFAWWbZ^`M`}nsbng}v‰Š‘o‚Žœ«®·§¸Í®ÃÍÀÌÅÏØààÞÜÖÍÍÒÏÛÛÇÉÀ¡Ì¼¬ŒÄ²ˆ’µœ›¤°…i†h`‹¥®È§‹ƒ†a–´Äœ³’l†~Ž“˜¥‘{v…€}±Ê´py{}™‡Ž›“Ž‚”‹ottl‘º»¡r‰|U‹”œ‡¸”cdXgyfx”¨œou‚¦‘ÈÏ¢·ÊØÄ¯Ä¦º§¡n¸®§³›jxsq˜”œt—¦£~}tivGXgW\mVU3=P'4456.-=@!&'"4,+%+!$$,.=]P3C:7QUZHƒnT‰{„Œ†œš•‚Šxœª®Ÿ“¦¦ ƒ±µ¬¨¡Ž®±¥Ã±Î¸Ï±ªš°ÂÀ³É·§š·Ÿ›–¼§§‘kzŽz™šž¢um{{‡}zz¢…eKj~jW@CJ^]L=58C3. 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"Things Are Never" is moody. (It actually reminds me of E.S.G.'s "Moody"). Crisper-than-crisp beats, a baleful bass-drop (making your stomach plummet like you're on a rollercoaster), a one-note synth-bleep wincing like a hypertense vein pulsing in your temple. In the new sonic context crafted by Steve Gurley (ex-Foul Play, a/k/a Rogue Unit), the originally romantic-heartbreak themed diva vocal ("things are never/what they seem") becomes a more general statement of existensial instability. The lush-but-dark vibe reminds me of Nightmares On Wax's "Aftermath", the plinkily metallic, melodic-percussive xylophone riff recalls Unique 3's "7-AM". There's a bunch of tunes around in early 99--like "Slamdown" off New Horizons' Scrap Iron Dubs No. 1 EP--that have a clonking industrial feel that harks back to the bleep-and-bass era of 1990: the first time the British merged house, reggae and electro to make a new sound system stylee.
"Spirit of the Sun" has the archetypal 2-step mood-blend of euphoria and tension, retaining garage's overwraught diva histronics but resituating them amid dynamics and drops that are totally un-house. The bit where the beat pauses and the "shine on, shine on, shine on" chorus explodes never fails to send goosebumps prickling up my neck. The lyric is kind of interesting too, the diva talking about how she's going to be infused by "the spirit of the sun"--it takes garage's traditional obsession with summer to the verge of Bataille-style helioatry: his worship of solar extravagance and his exaltation of a "will for glory" in the human soul "which would that we live like suns, squandering our goods and our life." Bataille-style will-to-expenditure, aristocratic potlatch, largesse, and garage 'n' R'n'B's luxury, commodity-fetishism and larging it -- same thing innit?

RICHIE BOY AND DJ KLASSE--"Madness On The Street (2 Step Mix)" [Stamp]
Another stunning torsion-and-treatment job on a female R'n'B vocal of unknown (to me) provenance. "I can't stand/All this madness on the street"--this short phrase, pretty funky to start with, is subjected to all kinds of vivisection and resequencing over a sublime cyberfunk groove. Combining the anti-naturalism of R'n'B vocal production with the filtering/panning techniques of late 90s house, producers like Richie Boy and DJ Klasse fracture the vocie into tiny percussive shards, create new accents and stresses, make the vocal haemorrhage or pulse, fold in on itself, buckle, crinkle, or glow uncannily. It's serious posthuman business, you're not listening to a person anymore but a passion that's being enhanced and mutated through interaction with technology. A cyborg, in other words.

SOME TREAT -- Lost In Vegas (JBR)
A tribute to/remake of Shut Up And Dance's 1990 (or was it even 1989?) track "Ten Pounds To Get In," this samples the Suzanne Vega vocal-riff from "Tom's Diner" that SUAD must have got from DNA's unoffical-then-subsequently-sanctioned dance version of the S. Vega track. We're talking multiple levels of citation here, serious intertextuality. On a broader level it's a tribute to the hardcore continuum--getting on for ten years of London's multiracial rave scene, a culture of mixing it up, of hybridising hybrids and mutating mutations; the continual reinvention of flava and vibe. A tradition of futurism. Roots N' Future = the endlessly fresh now.

DOOLALLY--"Straight From The Heart" (Chocolate Boy/Locked On)
A lot of people have said there's a ska element to this tune. There's definitely a skanking vibe-- the trace of a reggae afterbeat, a strange bubbling bassline that winds and weaves around the crisp, push-me pull-you 2-step. So irresistibly poppy and chuneful it made the UK Top 20, "Straight From the Heart"--and its sequel, "Sweet Like Chocolate", released as Shanks and Bigfoot--make the strongest case for 2-step as a millenial update of lover's rock: the UK-spawned hybrid of US soul and reggae that emerged at the end of the 1970s as second-generation Caribbean-British women demanded songs that addressed their concerns (love, relationships) rather than a Rastafarian agenda. As Dick Hebdiges says in Cut 'n' Mix, rather than the fantasy of utopia through repatriation to Ethiopia/Zion, these women's (only slightly less unrealistic?) dream was of a caring man. A song hymning devotion, commitment and holding out for the long-term emotional dividend, "Straight From The Heart" is also a sign that the hardcore nation's grown up and settled down. Borderline cheesy, it reminds me of the way hardcore could alchemize the most cheddary pop hits and make them sublime (c.f. Goldseal Tribe's '92 push-me-pull-you pirate monster "Only The Lonely"). Love it.

AMIRA--"My Desire (DREEM TEEM Remix) [VC/Virgin/Slip'n'Slide]
N-TYCE--"Telefunkin' (FIRST STEPS Remix) [label unknown]
JODECI VS CLUB ASYLUM--Freak Me Up (Steppers Vocal Mix) [white label]
US R'n'B gods/goddesses (and some Brit-wannabes) given the now almost obligatory 2-step remix for the London market--sometimes official, sometimes strickly bootleg. "My Desire"--glossy gamelan clatter'n'tinkle of percussion, B-line that hops and skips and flutters like lovestruck butterflies in the stomach, a perpetual forward tumbling flow (pivoting around a micro-second hesitation in the groove that makes all the difference), a trembling-with-joy vocal re-patterned to dovetail with the groove in such snugly funky ways you'll want to leap out your own skin. "Telefunkin'"--slow-burning, svelte menace, hilarious love-junkie phone-sex lyrics ("I've got the fever for your flava", "I'm addicted to you baby/tied to the telephone line"). "Freak Me Up"--simply very, very horny.

NEW HORIZON--"Find The Path" [500 Rekords]
--"It's My House (Bashment Mix)" [500 Rekords]
--Scrap Iron Dubs No. 1 EP" [500 Rekords]
Not 2-step, but a reggaematic and rootical reinvention of house music so marvellous and peculiar I had include it here. '97's "Find The Path" whisks a Gregory Isaacs-style nightingale croon into a falsetto froth of melisma-plasma that quivers and ripples like the fronds of a jellyfish; organ vamps create an almost Gothic-dub atmosphere. "It's My House (Bashment Mix)"--"bashment" is a dancehall patois term for the ultimate, the works--has this amazing dissonant-verging-on-microtonal blare of drones that's somewhere between the Master Musicians of Jajouka and the old hardcore rave blow-your-own-horn classic "One Time For the Foghorn". Scrap Iron Dubs No.1"--killer tune is "Slamdown"-- is part of what Bat from ukdance identifies as the "latest micro-trend in 2-step... weird techno bleepy clanging noises peppered all over the trax", further pointing out that "This is a pretty radical departure for garage, which has stuck to the same portfolio of 'organic' sounds (real instruments, proper singing etc) for yonks. Now we get those organic noises mixed up with all manner of strange vleeps and metallic klungs - something I haven't heard since the heyday of hardcore and jungle around 1994."

KMA--Recon Mission EP (Locked On)
The title declares this EP a probe into the unknown (as does the sample "this is a line to the future/leave a message). From the outfit responsible for the dark garage classics "Cape Fear" and "Kaotic Madness," this is one of the most emotionally and rhythmically confused records I've heard in years. My favorite is the third track, "Blue Kards," a hybrid of the first two: disjointed beats that seem to stampede out of the mix, gaseous swirls of phased vocals (sung by producer Six), stricken guitar licks, and an overwraught doubt-wracked bluesiness of mood. Alarmingly the new KMA jam "Kemistry" is a supersmooth four-to-the-floor tune with a full-on vocal; Six's thinking seems to be that the only unpredictable thing left for KMA to do was make a totally conventional garage track. Shame, but the debut album The Unanswered Question, set for Jan 1st 2000 release, might well rival be 2-step's Timeless .

ANTONIO-- "Hyper Funk" (Locked On)
Crisp-and-spry 2-stepper whose simple drum machine beat, Scritti prickle of glossy funk guitar, and block party MC exhortation ("hype hype hype hype the funk") hark back to early Eighties simplicity. 2-step's very own "Rockerfella Skank"?

GROOVE CHRONICLES--"Stone Cold" (Groove Chronicles)
Crafted by rising producer Noodles, this languid-yet-foreboding track samples just a few vocal phrases from Aaliyah's sublime "One In A Million" (a Timbaland production which I always though was like a jungle ballad) and totally reinvents them; Aaliyah's hushed devotional tenderness becomes the ghost-of-my-former-self whispers of a love addict going through emotional cold turkey. The key phrase is "desire" (phrased "deee-siyah", putting a sigh in it): in the original, it's Aaliyah promising to do anything her beloved wants, his heart's desire; here, it becomes a floating signifier, pure intransitive craving, and yet another sign of garage's relentless imagery of appetite and neediness ("what you want, what you need', "giving you what you wanted," etc). Killer moment: when the beat and the jazzy sax solo drops out, leaving just Aaliyah's pleas and reproaches ("you don't know, what you do to me"), then in comes the moodiest wah-wah dread bassline ever. Goosepimples a-go-go.

RAMSEY and FEN--"Love Bug" [BUG]
--"Desire" [BUG]
--"Love Bug Remixes" [BUG]
What blows me away about "Desire" is the amazing density of rhythmic information RAF are able to cram in without the groove feeling cluttered. The intricate high-end percussion--shakers, hi-hats (closed and open), tambas, the trademark RAF ultra-crisp fills and rolls --is so dazzling and glitterball spangly that the first time I heard it the phrase "cocaine music" sprung into my mind (and it's not a drug I know much about). Turns out that (according to Kodwo Eshun, who heard it from Portishead's engineer) the "cocaine ear" prefers bright, toppy sounds. "Love Bug" is similarly dense-but-groovy with weird detuned drum fills. There's also an amazing "Love Bug" remix out any day with an electro feel--if it's the track I heard Fen playing out, it's got a Roland 808 bass-drop driven groove that throbs and whirs like a monstrous clockwork mechanism.

CLOUD 9--"Do You Want Me (DEM 2 Steps To Heaven Mix) [Locked On]
CRAZY BANK--"Your Love" [Locked On]
These go together in my head for some reason; "Do You Want Me" is sheer amorous euphoria with great percussive vocal stabs, which are contorted, twisted and clipped short to make for an exquisitely tender frenzy. Crazy Bank does much the same but with a more desperate tinge, making the diva sound like she's about to leap out of her own skin. There's no narrative coherence to 2-step's love songs: sentences are left hanging, the object noun or qualifier snipped to make the phrase fit the funktionalist requirements of the track. Here it's like the lover's discourse in random shuffle mode.

M-DUBS--"Over Here (Sugar Shack Break Beat Funk)" [Babyshack Recordings]
A minimal 2-step roller very much in the "Destiny" mold--crisp snare-kick groove, simple synth-vamp, great organ licks and dub-wise flickers in back of the mix. What really makes it though is the fantastic drawling and nasal ragga vocal from the Emperor Richie Dan, playing a ladeez-man tendering his services ("if you wanna take a chance/I'm right over 'ere") while a female backing vocals seem to be singing "Iron Mike" for some reason.

SKYCAP--titles unknown [white label]
Two tracks in the vein of their awesome dark garage tune from '97, "Endorphin". So wired they're dsyfunktional, they make me think the next step after charley-spliffs might be freebasing. The best side has a gibbering and mewling male vocal (which eventually goes into single-phoneme scatting --imagine Bobby McFerrin reduced to a crackhead) strung around an ultra-brittle 2-step anti-groove. The flip, also good, features a seriously overwraught and accusatory diva and some blues-wracked guitar licks. 2-step's journey beyond the pleasure principle should be as interesting as '93 darkcore's.

VARIOUS ARTISTS Locked On, Vol 3: Mixed by Ramsey and Fen [Virgin]
DREEM TEEM Dreem Teem In Session Volume 2 [Deconstruction/4 Liberty]
Locked On is the best UK garage compilation yet (the full circumference, 2-step to 4-to-the-floor), and also, I'm afraid, the American reader's best chance of hearing this stuff: a few 2-step tunes are slipping through in the speed garage/UK garage bins, but this is a London thing, inevitably if rather sadly. You can find this comp in American specialist dance stores and also in Virgin megastore. Mixed by RAF, it's the bomb: alongside above-mentioned lovelies "Destiny", "Love Bug," Amira, Crazy Bank, it includes such killers as Dreem Teem's bubblicious proto-2stepper "The Theme," the astounding Dem 2 cyberfunk mix of Aftershock's "Slave To the Vibe," M.J. Cole's slick, Bukem-of-2step "Sincere" and RandF's gorgeous Latin garidge mix of The Heartists's "Belo Horizonti." The Dreem Teem comp has many of the same 2-step classics,, plus New Horizon's "It's My House (Bashment Mix)" and a great woozily vocalized Chris Mac cyberballad, "Set It Off".

VOCAL HOUSE

SHANTEL-- Higher Than The Funk [!K7]
HERBERT--Around The House [Phonography]
LEILA--Like Weather [Rephlex]
BASEMENT JAXX--"Red Alert/Yo Yo" [XL]
--"Rendez-Vu/Jump 'N Shout" [XL]
VARIOUS ARTISTS--Atlantic Jaxx Recordings: A Compilation [Atlantic Jaxx]
Per 2-step, most of my favorite dance records this year featured vocals. Electronica + ethereal girl vox = bliss is a post-Bjork cliche. But the equation has generated some of '98's loveliest listening. Shantel is a play on producer Stefan Hantel, but is really a merger of his beat science, the tunecraft of singer/songwriter Andrea Palladio, and the dulcet tones of chanteuse Liane Sommers. With pale wraiths of vocal (Palladio and Sommers are virtually indistinguishable ice queens) darting between reggae-inflected beats, Higher is like a techno remake of Grace Jones's Nightclubbing, right down to the unusual cover versions (here, a gorgeously wistful skank-over of "All I Want " fromxz~|ƒ~€}w{yz|ƒ‚„‚…„y}‚††…ˆƒ…~x|~€‡‰„ƒ€‚ˆ‹Œ†„‚†‡‡†ˆ‰‡Œˆ…†ƒ…ˆ‹Œ††ƒ‡ˆ†‚‰Œ‹†„†‰‡Š‡„…ƒ…ˆ„‚Š†ˆˆ††„…Œ‰ˆŠˆ…ƒ‡Š„„ƒ~„‡„ˆ‰†…†„€ƒƒ…„‡……ƒ€~~~}z{€‚€||…ŒŠˆŒŠƒ‚}ƒ†ˆ‚}|„ˆ‚‚†ŠŽ‚…………‹‹ˆ……††…Š}•y˜q¡o›z}‹}x‚„…s’‚}€„y–y—}Ž‡Ž‡‚ˆŒƒŠ†‡‰“{†}„ˆ€Š}ƒ~—{u‹”v™p‹pv‹€Š}ˆ|„q’…„‡i•u—n™]…p‡Œƒq‚|jz~y„~vmy…‡xuwŒ}y—…’hƒw’~•‰yx‡‚—‚„~v‚eˆus†pƒ]Wˆv}‚€`“lwb•p‰Žu‡~‰…“x„n„„}……t}t€jkWny‚…pw{Šr{…{†€q|Z|Yz{r{yuqzqš‡{{|–Z‹e“j’rriŠY§R–Q†]~•s›fƒ|‚„y‡°q¦v’…‡‚z{•t}~Œ{™svz€„–sk|i“Wzbod€‚Ÿz›}‡Š†€’vˆ˜“”x“ŒŠ|p`Xabecu’}™}…”—žŸ’œŽ„ˆuw|p|sagv‰ilhgfb€Yƒ˜‘ˆ{x|‹Œ‘Œy‹‚y{{‰v—§•ª†•z†‘¢¸¿±‘“’[‰|oobiShus[ugare†l€yc~€ˆv¦£s²‹‹|–•›zky}u}mekYu]lkdsUo‚_VcWpt”¤ˆ€z‹“–dšy”qkœ’y‘m‚…qfr‹k„—ˆc¢b„RNš‰›k‡XkBgBsMhi3cN]G—CWpaclerWhao”w††fh•wlp`w‡Rf´b“——…§ˆ¢¦ i¹‚tu†l|¡Ÿw†lŠZc?dkfk<@\ZW]pJNhSEUB;V4]SOk:`o§„§ž…¹¯Ó¸ÁÌ³ÈÀ¾À·Ð»¦ÀÔ¼Î¡¦°‡§™´šŸ’”|Œtƒkx~VrVnle†mvsmm™jVoŠaj˜y…‡™†¤—Ÿ¬œœ‹«š¹§£ª¡” ’¦µÇ¶Ú©ÆÀÅ¯««§¹©¹Â³—³‹w›|‡•¯xŽ¥•²Œ±Æ”¹¤—À«œ›—ªž˜ž¹–¡¿¤™}y¦t„^es_d‚cql|eqmSlfCPRVWe7SFG4?1B22E2HAO>@H8D66<64<=4/?4;>/9A9FANVR]?VD]Q[aYHIRGJIfXm[ajghegpwzbjkujzklvbn|fswr€xv„‡vƒsˆŠ‚qsye…s…}hwzqrywpwr‰‡yytw–Œ‘¦’œ‘–©œŸ¬£¢³«¶¶¹¶¯½¡¨©¹œ©žš«©ž•–’…†€lzzvloˆxvŒ•žš•‰yŽ†ž”…”Œ”©¢²—™ „—˜™¤Ÿª‹£ª–´¯±±±œ®¢’’›¨‘¡´©™—“˜£“®¡§¤œ•¦³±¢“yv‹‰Ž›‰}ƒws‚’’“¢ª‰–Ÿ~¤Ž›”Š‡‹ŒˆŽŒ„Š‘—…•””s‚xwi†yk~ƒ€inhRXom}tp{mY[qcXgINZXMbcMdstpy~siz†€¢–¡Œžž¾ÂÉÂ¯ÁÈ¿¿«»ÇÅÄÅÆ²Æ¹Á´·®Êµ¢Ÿ•®ª©”©¯£¡Ÿ‹•¢Ž‘«œˆ„ˆƒ’Š‚z}~‚|lyƒvlnrrrgzfldhm_NI\cYegaVUDXeCDENTolrvq`QRV[RKPVGAD9A5Y[OUIFGYO]USNM_X_^pX^UHDNcVc_XU^aZphaYbeZt_VX`bplmkpefYkdenh}qk}snqxŒ€Š€th^bZMZophtcsv[^Syyymvˆ~tl€etz{ zy˜ˆ‰~‰‡•†‘¦Šž«¢—Œ¦‘Š—–“Š‘œ›”›™‰ ž±·²°©²¤¡¥ Ÿ™«²¸·«°›‰ƒˆ—›†“˜•Ÿ”œª¤š˜™›™Š|{u…‡š“‘†™‘”£¨³¦ ™¢‰„–£˜˜—˜ujrwknxwmpg~{{{—’‘‹‹ƒu}tqrhg‚~|‹€€Ž€unwb`Y\eha_zlfd_gqinnvtsl‚wjgjmrxvƒƒŠyswv~x†~€ˆ‚…‰‡|„‡“Ž‚‰†y~ˆ˜«²¶¡¤œ•ƒ‹Ž¨ª£Ÿž™©”–œ ”–š¤¦ªŸ”‘ˆ’¤¥£›™ ›¢©™Ÿ¬Ž‹‘••œ¤®–Šƒšƒƒzpu˜Œ…ˆy€wkxgVunscVCE[QXaY]mk~‚vbeXYggga]V]S=FJI\X[VV9>HNMY]_e[T]hTUZfVIHKWQJIAVQYppkWZU_L;OYdIHORS;LQBLO`co—” ¾¶·˜—£³ÅÊÑÔØàáÛáÞÖÒÙØæÚÜÏÈ¿½¶¦²ª° œ¯¦Œ¢˜²È¾©´¸{erfmZqrZwXAAQqƒŠ«Æ·¤–§¡¥¢‘if‹°œ®§glATvÀÇ±iIJ<~Ÿ©“•Šdv€F{cyœKI_upnP(fxŒt‚m•¾ÔÜÐ²ÐÉ§ž¦¢´ÌÏ»«²Ê¨-PM&L qpL$%.?JP~sT@4-K5)6>LY/?PjgXX]rrÃ ƒº\R;emsSjZ…‰†]Ž•Ó”¦¥¹ÐË½ÔË¨‹{c’¨¥¾±ª¤œ»±™}‹ªž{†«š§ŠUQafMnmjip ¹†zyÃ·‹‘—¡‹cH`Y_vW‹{^{I>;DY…†znlZTaP-grvq¸¿¶£˜ykDƒgJcvYJXŠŽsi–ºÀ‡Ž¦ˆ¨>4Nvul¤Â™k‹ZX‹¥°§ƒ}QŽ¦¾ž›w¦y‡‡ª°`QySMBhUOƒŽu^O,4M.=Q=F@FhC$##96C@?;.U/?bI@<\ZV,0aD94, 98&PN/KH%AA-;Wqi„~nwš¬‰Œ°£™¶¨¥ibˆ§Û·¿Ð¾¢ˆr‘‡‚sS›Ÿ¡µ¿Ñ˜ƒ‰Vx¤”¥Å¿¸Ž£¸Ä„…¿Ç·½É¶¥ÂÕ²»¿ÑÎ®¿°¯°Å§«Œ®yo£ƒqn7ubEPVSKU:IMs‚Ts–œ_yRY¬shYq¢“ž¸oz¿Æy’ÄÃ©Ìv£±›ziª^K™fdŒ•Aczcu7owaF”’US–—ª©›¥Ä•È§ž¬Í”ÚáÄÇÕÔ¹¬¸Ë³Çâ×”¦´µŽ·º¼¨¡§® •¿l“¥››¯¥}®Ï¹³ß´¨Ø¹ŸË×ª—¥ŸŸ|Âªx¬³·i™¤toš{Ž›ž`Wh‡vs€M?1SaE[TO”s„šjru[qiDV3Q+pQQCqf1j–j=l}4AoŠa0\\{gfQYhF=gXa^vfr=?[vGPGw¡}•˜P²º‡¬Î©¨Ä»»½¥ÝÎÄÆ´·»ª·¦Ã“o†¤¬Í±±Ë¬°§Â·¼¾Ïˆ‹§¦`‡’gžš‹ƒÌuÅ–†¹¼‰€ž›|˜„Œ›Šsp”—™q}®‹Œ†w•hFqIRY4^PQM$4^"3:5'04$%ODTG:OB,,R0)I: #6('G+-Y0BK%38<7-B8$3B@C$D0L7'+$,7I..0/3@)/:>DZB0AYMGF9MD.ECD62-4;J36P69=9++8G08HE6DYFM]AUbI\7>PSIQXJP[AD]XEGM\hZb[ShjF[jfVfjlvort`lz]vs‰y…–‡Œ~|š’‘®›£¤¡¬§¬¦½§¥·®¥ª¬²¹È¿²ÃÉ«ÆÍÀ¾ÇÃ¸ÁÑÃÆÂÀÁÇÎÇÆÕÆÄÍËÑÒÉÌÒÅÊÅÌÜÆÄÙÌÌÍÐÑÔÌÚÎÑÕÛÄÊÏº¼¹ÃÍ±µÈ»½½»°¾³©º¿µ«© °·¢¦§¤¤š›š™‘Š””Šš“Š Œ}†‹…ews‚wuwrumfb[XWQTR`UTdVQZW^PMLBID?-0459463),@8@8419:07481,/-$+1.(.)(((1/)&)'-1,5-(.()'+))''0/)072.5>.70=A?C9891=?5:=52B8EWOc]TWU\XXX]\UKWcf[gkcols~wv|zyqs}†Š‘‰„ˆ‹€ŽŠ…–‡ˆ–š›£œŸ¡Ÿ±§›™˜¥›¡³§©ª²º¦µ¢¯À¾¸ÅÂÆÁÀÄ¹Ã¼¸¿¼®º¸¸ÁÁÄº¹´Á»ÆÃ¿É¾ÅÆÈÆ¸Â¾³¸µ°·º°ªº¶¬³¿À¿·º¾º´´º·²¯®®¥©±¤¤²¬¨·©§¨ª«§°£¤²¨¤š£ š”‹•Œ‰‘’‡ƒˆ‘ƒ‡•”Œ‹‹„€…zuz|zz€‚„ƒƒ‚€ƒƒ~w„€vzxxqhokrni|€upuwr{qxuislmojbfggnjqqnpmol}tqp~ywv~}zzzxzqnljspl|tu~wv~€‡|n€xw~€€zuwtqv}‚€ƒƒ„’Ž‹ˆ‰•ˆ‹Š…‡ My Fair Lady). Highlight: the eerie, slow-mo dub-maze of "Fiercely Independent".
More (wo)man-machine magick on Around The House, this time fusing the texturhythmic voluptuousness of Matthew Herbert with Dani Siciliano's jazzed vocals. Possibly my favorite album of the year, and another indication that house has quietly crept forward to become the leading edge of dance culture-as it once was a decade ago. Assimilating the sharpest ideas from more overtly experimental genres and resituating them in a juicier pleasure-principled context, house producers have avoided the grimly purist rut of hairshirt minimalism that's ensnared drum and bass and techno.
Nobody better exemplifes late Nineties house's promiscuous impurism than Basement Jaxx, the South London duo of Felix Buxton and Simon Ratcliffe. On their two recent EPs (whose four A-sides + four dub versions = an album's worth of stuff), virtually every track creates a new subgenre. "Red Alert" is P-Funk house: Bootsy slap-bass, G-Funk synth, a chorus of psychedelic dwarves chanting fluent Clintonese. Flipside "Yo Yo" has been hailed as "punk garage", for the Nirvana/Pixies heft of its fuzzed-out bass-riff. But the chorus--"you were a prophet from above/then you came and sucked my blood"--recalls Jamie Principle's eroto-mystic house classic "Baby Wants To Ride"; if Prince-wannabe Principle had ever got to make his own Sign of The Times, it might have sounded like "Yo Yo."
The second Jaxx EP is even more amazing. "Jump 'N Shout" is rude'n' deadly ragga-house, driven by a thuggishly in-your-face bassline and hectic patois patter; Buxton and Ratcliffe have managed to come up with a totally different dancehall/house hybrid than speed garage. "Rendez-Vu" is either "flamenco-house" or "The Genre Formerly Known As House," meshing Castillian guitar flurries and Zapp-style vocoder ditties with and a lush, orchidaeous decadence that again recalls Prince (this time circa Parade). Where most dance records make a virtue of creative thrift, Basement Jaxx stuff is maximalist not minimalist: instead of interminable loops, you get new patterns every couple of bars, sonic singularities, an insanity of detail. Yet Buxton and Ratcliffe's sonic largesse never degenerates into eclectic whimsy or that multilayered-but-not-integrated form of addititive composition that undoes so much computer-based music.
The lead tracks are so permeated with dub's spatial sorcery that they almost render the dub versions redundant, if the latter weren't so radically creative and almost-brand-new brilliant. "Red Alert Dub" is much more freaked-out and millenial, with feet-defeating beats, a cthonic growl of a B-line, and panicked screams. "Boo-Slinga Dubplate"--the remix of "Jump 'N Shout"--is a full-on maelstromic 303 miasma, collapsing at one point into a dubby drumspace of signals, echos, pulses, wisps and hisses. "Dreamdub" isn't actually a reworking of "Rendez-Vu" but an all new track which the boys consider a sop to fans of their earlier deep-housey stuff (apparently, it only took them a few hours to knock together). It's sublime, stunning, the sound of a cup of joy overfloweth-ing--all rhapsodic string-shimmers, angel-sighs, orgasmic gasps of blissed horny exertion, and this only-repeated-once syncopated stop-start vamp like your heart skipping a beat. The Atlantic Jaxx compilation is a useful introduction to the back catagloue, covering all the duo's facets from Latinate to the ill-sounding "Set Yo Body Free" (house music's "Third Stone From the Sun"?).
Advance ear-glimpses of the Basement boys debut Remedy reveal even wilder twists to the contours of house as we've hitherto known her--such as "Don't Give Up", a quiet Sturm und Drang ballad that beseeches "don't pull the cracks in your mind apart" beneath, billowing acid-bass and Scott Walker strings, and "Same Old Show", which does amazing things with a vocal loop from The Selector's "On My Radio" believe it or not. Remedy looks set to do for house what Reprazent's New Forms did for drum and bass in '97--explode the parameters, and made the wider world beyond wake up and pay attention.

GLOOMCORE

PILLDRIVER--"Apocalypse Never" [Cold Rush]
MARC ACARDIPANE--Marc Acardipane--Best of 1989-98 [IDandT ]
ARRIVERS--Dark Invader [Things To Come Records]
THE HORRORIST--One Night in NYC [Things To Come Records]
SUPERPOWER--The Future Crusade [Things To Come Records]
VARIOUS ARTISTS--Lost Tracks [Industrial Strength]
VARIOUS ARTISTS--Bigger Bolder Better [PCP/CNR]

Scene people call it "doomcore" but I'm sticking with "gloomcore"--the "gl--" sound is more moistly morose, capturing the voluptuous melancholy of the sound and its dankly reverberant Gothic sound. (Apparently Marc Acardipane's musical journey began with a punk band who rehearsed in a church--in the hardcore mag Thunder, he says "with hindsight I think that is one of the reasons why I use full, booming, resounding noises in my records." )
This was another great year for "ambient gabba"--the atmospheric dirgecore pioneered by Acardipane and cohort Miro (a/k/a Reign and Renegade Legion), which has apparently turned around the Netherlands scene, brought back a hint of melody, musicality and slower tempos. That said it's harder to imagine anything harder or more punishing than Pilldriver's "Apocalypse Never", the long-awaited tenth release on Cold Rush (Lost 10 as H-core connoisseurs whisper in hushed, reverential tones), my favorite single of the year, and quite possibly Marc Acardipane's aesthetic pinnacle. "Apocalypse Never" harries the listener with synth-stabs that sound like a swarm of bat-winged and trident-wielding demons, while the unrelenting 4/4 kick-drum is so cleverly inflected you never register it as monotony. Listening, I feel like I'm surging through a nebula cloud of flame, a slipstream of silver sparks and fiery motes swathing my limbs, a real inferno brother, subcutaneously incandescent. There's no getting round the fact that, aesthetically (if in no other sense) this is a fascist experience, a blitzkrieg--touching on deep nether realms of Nordic soul. Viking bizness and t'ing, seen.
Arcadipane has now split from PCP/Dance Ecstasy 2001/etc, set up his own label (called, bizarrely PCP-Acardipane), and taken Miro with him; early output is good but not outstanding. If you want to catch up on his awesome body of work, hunt down Marc Acardipane--Best of 1989-98. Right now the gloomcore torch is burning brightest in the hands of The Horrorist, a/k/a New York's veteran gabba producer Oliver Chesler (you can hear some of his early terrorcore stuff on Industrial Strength's excellent gabba primer Lost Tracks). Like Cold Rush's "music for huge space arenas," Chesler's three EPs on his own Things To Come label are music for the kind of raves that don't exist any more (except maybe in the Netherlands)--bacchanals in giant industrial hangars, cyber-Wagner bombast, a lost blisstopia of Belgian brutalism. Chesler's been scarred by T99 and "Dominator", the mentasm virus got into his nervous system and he's never recovered. Tracks like "Dark Invader" (title track of the first EP) and "Move: Don't Stop" (high point of The Future Crusade, a collaboration with Miro, here aliasing himself as Hypnotizer) hark back to that moment in 1991 when the big rave became a night rally of living E-heads--the beats got regimented, the bass pumped militaristically.
The really interesting thing about the Things To Come stuff is that most of it has vocals and lyrics; Chesler's into story-songs, scabrous vignettes of Manhattan club kids up to no good ("Mission For Ecstasy", "One Night in NYC") that make me think of the Larry Clark flick Kids, or strange megalomaniac/paranoiac fever-dreams that suggest Oliver has a bit of a prophet-complex (this music is the soundtrack to an as-yet-imaginary subculture, Gothic Rave, he wants to bring into being), or alienated-but-loving-it odes to robo-dancing in advanced states of polydrug dissassociation (the Devo-esque "Wet and Shiny", "Flesh Is The Fever"). Breaking with the studied anonymity and mystique of techno culture, Chesler wants to communicate: each EP comes with a lyric sheet that also includes prose-poem writings and musings by Oliver on drugs and "the millenium spider." Chesler wants to recruit you for his New Direction; I for one am ready to enlist.

R'n'B

TIMBALAND-- Tim's Bio: From the Motion Picture: Life From Da Bassment [Blackground]
AALIYAH-- "Are You That Somebody?" (from Dr. Dolittle soundtrack ) [Atlantic]
MYA--"It's All About Me" [University/Interscope]
NICOLE-- "Make It Hot" from Make It Hot [EastWest]
For the last eighteen months, Timbaland's convulsive kinaesthetic --double-time/triple-time/quintuple-time kicks, ultra-crisp snares, spasmodic flurries of hi-hat-- has dominated the R'n'B soundscape. So what's immediately striking about Bio is its failure to probe a fresh new direction; a lot of copycat producers must have trained their ears anxiously on its contents in the hope of finding new beats to bite, only to walk away disappointed.
Maybe you've heard of the Jamaican tradition of "version" or "one rhythm" albums: a dozen or so tracks all built on top of the same bass-and-drum undercarriage. Different songs, different dubs, same riddim. Timbaland isn't quite so frugal with his creativity, but Tim's Bio does pretty much consist of eighteen variations on that beat. But perhaps this complaint misses the point. Ever since it lost the "-'n roll," rock has had a problem with repetition: albums and shows are supposed to have dynamics, pacing, constrasts, demonstrations of versatility; at a certain point, more is always less. But in dance music, more is... more; repetition accumulates intensity, creates and sustains that crucial intangible known as "vibe". Black dance scenes (and their white mutations) work according to the principle Amiri Baraka dubbed " changing same": minute variations on the same building blocks (jungle's "Amen" breakbeat, Miami Bass's subwoofer-quaking 808 boom, dancehall 's "pepperseed" rhythm , and so forth). Mercenary copyists and opportunistic cloners play their part, too. For when a certain sound is doin' it, the audience can't get enough of the good stuff. If you're in it, the slight tweaks and twists to the reigning formula have enormous impact, whereas the uninvolved outsider hears only monolithic monotony.
That said, Timbaland really does need to come with a new cyberfunk matrix--for everybody's sake. Tim's Bio's self-plagiarism isn't so worrying as its lack of really catchy tunes and memorable beats. Like, it can't be a good sign when the only melody I can remember off the album is the Spiderman theme ripped off on the godawful "Here We Come". Still, the production finesse is still there; it's headphone R'n'B, catching the ear with all the stuff interwoven around the formulaic grooves--the scurrying infestation of percussive detail, the digitally-warped goblin vocals, the Afro-Dada grotesquerie of keyboard licks and sample squiggles, the onomatopoeic bass-talk.
Did Timbaland peak with Aaliyah's "Are You That Somebody", the most radical pop single of 1998? That brain-confounding stereo-panning rhythm programme that always makes me think of a skeleton playing the spoons against his femur! The baby's gurgle! The poise and erotic tension of the peerless Aaliyah vocal! Peerless but not pretender-less: Aaliyah-clone Mya (the names even rhyme) came close with "It's All About Me," a track that brilliantly reworked The Art of Noise's "Moments In Love." There's a pause in "It's All About Me", a moment when the song seems to pivot on its axis, and it's the most ear-teasing twist I heard all year. Also on the jailbait tip, Nicole's "Make It Hot" makes it for the call-and-response repartee between the girl and Timbaland's deadpan back-of-the-mix baritone.

INTELLIGENT BIG BEAT

RASMUS--Mass Hysteria [Bolshi]
VARIOUS ARTISTS--Donuts [Bolshi]
VARIOUS ARTISTS--Donuts 2 [Bolshi]
ENVIRONMENTAL SCIENCE-- "The Day The Zak Stood Still" [Fused and Bruised]
UBERZONE--"The Brain", from the Space Kadet EP [City of Angels]
VARIOUS ARTISTS--Brassic Beats 3 [Skint]
DR. BONE--"I Came Here To Get Ripped" [Skint]
LO-FIDELITY ALLSTARS-- How To Operate With A Blown Mind [Skint]
Even when it's not actively insulting your intelligence--as too much of the genre does--Big Beat is patently not a music designed to engage your higher faculties. Bypassing the ponderous conceptualism of self-consciously "progressive" electronica, Big Beat's manic stupor appeals to raved-up ex-indie rockers and (if it ever fufils its manifest commercial destiny in America), binge-drinkin' fratboys. Its rampant rumpus triggers the make-a-fool-of-yourself-on-the-dancefloor reflex.
Yet there are signs that Big Beat is entering its "mature" phase, with certain producers and labels moving beyond the rabble-rousing cheap tricks and cheesy, low-com-denom riffs that have served the genre so well. For instance, scene leaders Skint has started an experimental sub-label called Under 5s, while imprints such as Fused and Bruised and Bolshi are forging a sound that almost warrants the preposterous oxymoron "intelligent big beat".
Even as Bolshi tracks adhere to Big Beat's party-hard line (the music's "got to make you move and make you smile," says label founder Sarah Francis), the best of the label's otuput glistens with an inventiveness and delightful quirkiness that's scarce in this increasingly witless genre. Take Rasmus, a Sweden-born but London-based sampling wizard skilled at meshings seemingly incompatible elements into a funktional rhythm-engine. "Afro (Blowin' In the Wind")--the highlight of Rasmus debut album Mass Hysteria-- rubs a slice of conscious rapper Spearhead's basketball-in-the-park reminiscences and some scratchadelic frenzy ……x{‡†ˆ…†’Ž‘’”…ŒŠ…”’…ŽŽŽ…Œ‹„‘Ž‰‘”‘‡˜•Ž”–’Ž‰~„ƒ‚€‚€…†Žˆ‹ƒƒƒz~{‚~~ywoszwruvt|‚ƒ…‰†€}}~zqwssrnuvsltpilmoojmqtkcrmodgbbidkscidhfchijnkklfqotqnmmhf`onekjnampkpqrwrxtprmrqlmmd`hecflqqnknkhoyuyxy~yx|upx{zwv~€}}‚zyƒzx€zx}{y~|~~rzztr{‡…€~‚|}x…ƒ‰…ƒƒ~yxƒ………ƒ…‚€„|‚€…„…ˆŽ‡‹„ƒ„‚‚{|‚{}|ƒŠ‰„‰€~€‚‡‡‡ŠŠ{}‚‡„†‡„€‚‡ƒ„‹‹Œ‰†Š‰‚}„„~†‚€€ƒ€{z}‰ƒ†…ˆ‹‹‚Š…ƒ‰…‚Šˆ‚†ˆƒ‹ˆŠŠ‰……Š‡…„‡ˆ†ƒ…†ˆ~~†}‚ˆ‰‰’ŒŒŽŽ‚…‹‰‡‹Œ……ˆ…ŠŒ‹ŒŽŽ‘“Ž’–Œ‹Š„‡’‘ˆƒŠƒ‹‰†ŒŒ‹ŽŒ…ˆŒ‹‚‡‡‹‰‚†‹‰‰Š‡ˆŽ‡‰Ž‘‘Ž‘‘‰ˆˆ…ƒ………€~}†ƒƒƒ‡ˆ‹‡†‡ƒ†ˆ…€€zxxvxzxw|‚y|‚‚~yz|w{€|}~~|oswuvx|yyv~{w{{{}|xsswsxrxtrpoprsvourwvx{|}~|z}}~{tssrt}yux~zuvy|}~‚}|xz~€xwpwy||‚„|„†„†ˆ€|}€yz}„}…ƒƒƒˆ‡„ˆŽŠ†ˆ‰}€€|}‚}}‚„ƒƒ‚ƒƒ…ƒ†††‰‡†ƒ{|€€|‚€‚{ƒˆŽŒƒ‰ˆ………‚€ƒ}}{y}~|x~|}~‚ƒ„Œ‰‡„†…„€|y{|}~wz{}{†„‚‡ƒƒƒƒ€…„€€€€{{|||}ƒƒ‚…‚‚†‡ƒ„„‚|€}{{{w|z€‚„…‡Œ†…Š†‡‡€ƒ„…„z~|v}‚ƒ„ƒ„…ƒ‡‰‰„ˆˆ‚…„‚†‰†€€„‡ˆ‡„ˆ‰††ˆˆˆˆ‡…‡ƒ€€}{~††„‡ˆ………‰‰‡ˆŠˆ‚„„|ƒ~}}xw|~|{‚„}„„†„†‡ˆ„ƒ€{}zwzx{||€}{|zux}y{yu~zuwxtvurvuttuuxwvxxyxy{zxvxwuutttstqtuomttmpvxzy||y}}wussqqtuqpvqpqtsvtsrwxx}zzzzzxtvxttyw{|~€~|}€~„ƒ€ƒ|~~~|{~|x{zz€|€ƒ‚„‚ƒ†…‚‚ƒ‚~„{†ƒƒ„ˆ†ˆ‚‡‚„ˆŽ‹y„z‹}{‚y‡z£t•x™rŸ}†u’†{ˆ†‰v‘{‰z„€ˆ}ŠŠ’~Œ‰Š‡…ƒ„‹€y˜qŒƒz–wŠ†vˆ‡ƒ†ƒ†„€ˆ€‰Š~~~€Š‰†Ž}ƒ…ˆ}’ƒsƒ„vzz~v‡}Š}„ƒŠ‡}‰‚}w|€y„†~‡‡xŠƒ€‰€‹|›‚ƒ˜|Žˆ€“‡†‡Žu…‡Œ…’†…ˆŠ’…‚Ž–ˆˆ††|‘„xƒˆ~…~ˆ‡…„‡ŒŽ‹€‹ˆˆ‡yƒˆ|ˆ„|…‚‡ƒ~‘Œ|ƒ‡‰Œ{‡†„{}ƒy~†‚…†‚z…„‡„…}}vxu|xyvyszxvuy€‡‚}z~z|wy~tsqwn{s}yykx|uzy€†vwyvs|vsuxxzzsx~vvuzx}†}y~‡}‚p}ztz|€€}z{rzz~z€}{{t{ƒ{pwmbs~kro~vy}~…u‚‚vs‚u{u|‚y}€y€‡|{‡{‚…„‰Œ‹‰…“††„ˆ‡ƒ€†m€‡l‰wƒt‹vy{…|“Š|Ž~‰}t‘|ƒ{†w‹„tƒ‹}†{~|}‚‚†€…|{„tƒ|ˆ…‚‘Œy“„“q‰Œƒz„……„€y‡}u‚qw{‚s|~|r}poxljm}posyvz€{|„„‰€z~~~‚‰…†Šxƒˆ‚z…ˆ†„††ˆŒ…•ƒ‚‰qƒƒ}~~…ŠŽ‘Œ†Ž‘”ˆˆ~„yxŽr‚…mŒˆƒŽ”|‹ƒˆŠŽ†’’‘ŒŒŠ‹{€…€‘‰‰‡ˆ–y‡y~yz€ƒzzsŒ†…ˆ‰ˆ€„k‰g}n“gkƒguˆ}scWleRZeWegphxujugrily_{ntqnqsmytmuaf~mbeurjtlk‚cfna_Jtje\dT`nMwWzf9wgXfafPkak_\QAc@dH4y2\_Q_MŒYFi}Mnig[gosr‰VŠdzi€~ƒŠ‰x£‰ž¶}•±‘È«š¨§¶»¨®Ñ³ ËÇ«¨×·²°ÉÐ³°½¹Ä»ÑÎ°ÙÒÇ¿ÎÁÇÎÖÊÃÎËÇÜÖÊ×Ñ¤½¯ÕÄÈ»¼Ê½³ÇÑÉÕÃ©ÊÖ©ÂÆÕ®ºÄÇ³¥É¿¤°Žž•ž½–¥†´{’‘–ƒ‰©tl‡plx|n~‘†aplWaa}\wmid€j~_plSNIUX0Q>MB@GAFFMC;:,C.-4E7(L$V?]FU;pX2NN34#KdY,iRTBSUS;Y[Y?j]p[SWWT>NW?HSOKYVF@EAL@I,TC'B=G`D3BB8M99K%<@?;2,9E[J96D99ME>rWBKhPDdt`SzmTt•yq…ƒ‰lv˜u€ƒmˆ€|‹£Š£ –¦¤—¦±¥¢•¶Œ·Ÿµ¦›ºŸÃ¶˜£´žš¬«¡®¢¢³©¥¹©º±¯ÄÁ®—«Åª±ÊÀÃÂ³Ã²¾ÀµË›³«¯»Á¼¸¿®¸¡¸ÄÂ¤¾¨¯Â°º·¬¸¯ªÀÈ¿¶œÆ®ª›·¨ª·’…—™¯¤š§›™‹‘ž“‘z‘……}`hi\€—“ŽŠŠx‰ˆmkqr{p˜o{py„lzŒk‡y‚qz•‰¡vxssƒ}sxb{hh`cpqyi[Qti\lFovig`hljU[]rh_`iUGb]h…_h}`IdhjF_Rp|xpylrn‚~ˆxˆ‚|˜†‘‚ ›ª„— Ÿ‚‹Œ«¢›®« —™–—¨ª¼¦¡¢§Á‹¶§«º›®¬¢–¥¦“Ÿ’Œ §¯¼¡œ†¢‹ˆœ‹šŠª¥Œ¶Å¢Ã¼ª›°š·µ’“‘¯¦©¸§³¥•—Ÿ ¡¨“¢µŠ¦‘¢–ž¦°´Ÿ£Ÿ›Ž†‰œŽ‹|s’wk€~~‘€i~bwnaM^`@yEp^YbYeE\HFLcQSMMMH::GMK\\U8O-IF6P0G\QHVKIQS[O\DTR8;?GIKD]XAWRHFD1BD0G??DBH@IMCJEBK@:I?,>45?;-7C6RRQOMDGJ[[FZ@V=YYVkednS]_Xstxs`hk…s“›—ˆŽƒš’•ŠtoŠ{–—“¢Ÿ´»»£Ÿ›§‘¬ž¯¦›¨µ ´«ª ˜³Ÿ‰œ ˜º¹®¶¥˜ŽŸŸ±˜´±¤Ä·ª¬»£¹ª ·ÃÁ¯±³±£´®¹Á´£¡²¡®¶¨»ÁÉº¤¤›¥Ÿ¡–¥ ¡ž–—‡‘’£‚…£vx€jƒ‹gˆ~kmj^t‚ntk|noy^[mvYhƒŠuVk~ukv‚‚‹~‡•ˆ‚…€”–Ž‚ ‹~†•…”uŒ€z{jˆrsm…wk]|y|sƒˆvo†wtgvuekP`dxhoZihYn`Um}byqnmrw`j||oˆnp‡„…}~Œ|‚—³²©±®•Š›£žœ ‘“¨›¬°¯´·©¤¦°¬¯¤‘´³§¦œ§©vœ™”®•°°¢’¡–‚‚¯œ±•¡¦Œƒ“œžŽœŒ™…•Ÿ¬—¤˜ŸŽ®‰—‹žž™›Ž —Šž›–Ÿ¤ž”•’±”›˜‘¥–‘“ˆ‹z€yu‚†zƒ€vwgnzvhnvy‚sz}€jzqtwh\msk`hanf[d\mSGTNf\_jldm`][n\_zo`bo[m`Pihg\iinm\g_YZ_ZSaKHSOM_RObZUN^VbONIIA=J=4-/0;:I7JI=??AFOHTeLMVZXVUTTRNQjY]jmp{nr†Œ|}v}wsˆ†ƒ€ƒ‡~Šœ‡œ†”›Š‡†|—’”¦—Šš†ƒ ¢£Ÿ™˜Š‹‡“—ƒ‰§—¤¨°Ÿ¤’©¥‘–•²œ ¨¥°—²´¹²±³³³³¬¹¯ ¶ª¸´Á¸·¬¼Ç¹µµ›¢±¯ª¸˜’ ™•‰‘„ˆ‹‰«¥¥©˜ˆ†q‘…wƒƒ‡‘‚}„wmd‚{wuisms‘~‹Œƒ‰Ž‚|‹‡Œ‰{˜„Š’˜ž“—„ˆ‡‡€{~xxumk\xq€~lsnv}|t}mqc^eP_QXVNbg\SRhjbi``eN``hijbSjV`up[vnwq}w˜s|ƒ†‰Š“‚{„‡†œ”——ˆœ™“–”œ¬©°¯žœœš’‘”œ™Ž®ž ŸŸ¥±™¡—ˆ”£‰Žˆ“•œ«¨±©•š‘‘‘†•œŸ¢–œ››Œ ¸™¡¢œ—”§”¡¥ŸŸ¬˜Ÿ£µ¥¯ª¢¯¹¬¦œ–—…†‹‰‰‡Œpzxq‡~’‹‡~wwsksƒŒŽ~}|yxyj[wonsbtgmdfheeoiTblgkihmblamlkwl]pbeuhZlkmlN`QI\U^d_YZc^N\dS[QMXUWZNYL;E6@H6C6:/4;04059/9:ICC@:9E7>G=B@646@DKPMSVYQXVO]Vfllt||€‚|xxƒu|zrolrz‚~€v}‰‚ˆ‘ˆ„‰‹‹Œ—Ž†–†‚€…„…ˆ„|ts‡}ˆ‚ryy‚’–˜ž”‘——Ÿ§¨¬¦¨¶»º¼ººµ¨®®¯´´¸²¾°®«ª¥§³± ®©Ÿ§š¢š™¡ª°´´¶¥®¦¯¨«® ‹–˜Œ…~}}„˜Œ›“‘®©¢£™š’šŽ“’‰„Œ‡Žƒ}~}yvtrulqyskrvtrv~}pm|}xpodflkhgitssr{npppssnrpehlobahdjngtiadiaotxx}yrvncne^Z_`ajemzrttyxux{‡—‚‹‚‚Šˆ•€ƒ„ƒŽ‰€ˆ}Š‹‡Œ‡ƒ…ˆ‘“˜™Ÿ˜®³¦°®¥ª¦ £ —–™Ž†ˆ}{umt†Œ‹ŠŠ’•Œˆ‹‹†•Œ™š˜–‘“‹†ˆ‹‡ˆ~ƒ‹Ž†‹Œˆ‰Ž’–”••™Œ”ž”œ‘¢——ž—¤¦šŠ€rjpqzutjkzŽ‹‘¦¶½ÄÃ¶£S(EIOREFNR]dz„œ¡§§vaerƒ²®š˜˜– ›‹Œ‰y{ih[F8-+)6FOME9<8=@35;1.!+'$+1'1&1(0.29;PIMbS@HKU\]jXm^bc``_Zh}ƒ{Œ‡€‚Šks‡†~ƒ„†Šxw†sxrxgl|sxjjgj`oxufmk{kottrˆ……}}nƒnq†ifnhooz{m{‚œª ¨Ÿ¦šŸœ±š²¸À·ÎÓÏÎÑÃÂÕºÐÇ¼¬³´ º®¶¿©¥®µ˜«´¦œª©¥—¯¨“‘ˆ¤¼´›°ºžµ£ªª›Š˜¤›¸¢¨Ëª¼¿¨ÑÄÎÓÒÌÎÌÐ¼Å¿¹ºÕÈÐÒÑÖÊÌÑÇÂÄÊÄ³¿Ð½ÂÐ¼ÈÁ¾ªÍ©«´³¤˜œ™¡’–—{‚€zthmfufWXTPBX:C8B:;J3Q/5?M>Phenomenon . This messthetic of incongruity is something Rasmus gleaned from 'ardkore producers like Sonz of A Loop Da Loop Era and Jonny L.
Black sheep of the Bolshi roster, Beachcomas are even more into mix-and-mismatch. The partnership of programmer Matt Austin and sample-finder/"chaotic influence" Tony Freeman, Beachcomas first scored on the Big Beat scene with their Bolshi debut "It's Eggyplectic", a glorious squelch-funk surge of jazzy keyboard licks, burbling clavinets, and fierce acid stabs. But the duo really started to live up to their scavenger name--inspired by the surreal sight of a bed washed up on the mudbanks of the Thames--with "Donuts," an off-kilter delight that became the title track of the first Bolshi compilation (where you can also find "Eggyplectic"). Its unlikely constituents include quaint, regionally-inflected English voices, taped from a TV gardening program, talking about "peaches, split and juicy", "strawberries," and "nuts and medleys"; the panting of their pet dog, who refused to bark as desired; and a clipped guitar riff stolen from the B-side of the Mekons first single, "Never Been In A Riot". This influence from an earlier phase of indie-dance crossover--the punk-funk of Delta 5 and Gang of Four--carries through to the Pop Group sample on Beachcomas' latest EP for Bolshi, the disappointingly ungainly "Big Tuddy Session". Although I could swear it's "Where There's A Will There Has Got To Be A Way" (the Pop Group track on the split-single with The Slits's "In The Beginning There Was Rhythm") that gets sampled on "Waiting For The Beach" (from the second Bolshi EP, Planet Thanet; also available on Donuts 2). Beachcomas say it's actually a Diana Ross loop, combined with rooster noises generated from rubbing Styrofoam together. Either way it's a killer tune, if too rhythmically eccentric to do well on the Big Beat circuit. Right now the Beachcomas are the group who could do most with the album format ("Donuts" was one of the most oddly poignant tracks I heard last year, strangely reminding me of A.R. Kane's second album) but the artist least likely to get the chance.
Other smarter-than-your-average-Big-Beat gems include Dr Bone's "I Came Here To Get Ripped" (just a break, a sub-bass, an acid-riff, and a bit of reverb--but really musical, tickling your eardrums something lovely) and Environmental Science's "The Day The Zak Stood Still" (better than both their fine Skint output and anything else I've heard on Fused and Bruised--it's 'ardkore, basically, with a darkrave raptor-riff that swoops and hacks like a peckish pterodactyl). Uberzone is the best producer working in "funky breaks"--America's equivalent to Big Beat--and distinguishes himself from rivals like The Crystal Method and DJ Icey by bringing a chilly-the-most early Eighties electro feel to the party. As with all the best rave fodder, every hook in "The Brain" works as both melody and rhythm: chiming tablas, brain-eraser scratching, itchy-and-squelchy acid-house squiggles, icy plinks redolent of Unique 3-style bleep-and-bass acts and pressure-drop B-lines.
Ranging from the cantakerous B-line rumble "Kool Roc Bass" through the vandalized disco of "Blisters on My Brain" to the soiled supper club balladry of "I Used To Fall In Love" (Harold Melvin and the Blue Notes in an abbatoir), Lo-Fidelity Allstars's debut How To Operate with A Blown Mind is an oxymoronic masterpiece of "darkside big beat". It documents the normalized malaise of British polydrug culture, where clubbers no longer exalt being "loved-up" on E but instead boast about getting "messy" on a cocktail of diverse chemicals. Song titles like "Blisters On My Brain" and "How To Operate With A Blown Mind" suggest that the Lo-Fis are drawing on inside knowledge: "Blisters" sees Dave Randall gibbering about "injecting a rush/sniffing lunar dust" and "getting scrambled on one." But the album also deals in bluer modes of spiritual disarray, picking up where the Chemical Brothers and Noel Gallagher's "Setting Sun" left off --"the visions we had have faded away". Hence the mindwrecked confusion and numb despondency of "Nightime"--framed in Spiritualized-style ambient gospel backing that pivots around a desolate sample from The Three Degrees, the singer wonders "What's it all gonna mean/When audio psychosis spills from the speaker's cones/And you can hear the music tear/Tearing through your bones?". If you've spent the night partying like there's no tomorrow, what happens when tomorrow inevitably arrives? If you can't somehow integrate the blissed-out utopianism of the rave dancefloor into everyday life, you return to a reality that only feels even bleaker than before. Lo-Fidelity Allstars don't have any answers to these quandaries, with which many of their generation are currently grappling. But the band's turbulent sound and dark vision indicate a path beyond the impasses that have stalled dance culture in its tracks these last few years--what Jon Savage, writing about "Setting Sun", called an exhaustion within Ecstasy culture.

Fave Records of 1998

2-STEP GARAGE

VOCAL HOUSE

GLOOMCORE

R'n'B

INTELLIGENT BIG BEAT

STUPID-FRESH BIG BEAT

HEROIN HOUSE

NEO-ELECTRO

TRANCE

EVEN MORE GOOD RECORDS

LIVE THRILLS

YET MORE GOOD RECORDS--IS THIS A GOLDEN AGE OR WHAT?!!

AND FINALLY... 1998 CONSOLATION PRIZE FOR SLIGHT (VERY SLIGHT) RECOVERY: DRUM and BASS.

AND FINALLY...
1998 CONSOLATION PRIZE FOR SLIGHT (VERY SLIGHT) RECOVERY: DRUM and BASS.