[Contexterrior] (buy vinyl tk) (buy mp3s)

In the relatively faceless world of electronic music there are few characters who divide opinion and court controversy quite like Jay Haze. Artists like Kenny Dixon Jr. may be known for their occasional bursts of outspokenness, but Haze seems to forever be levelling shots, to the point where his music and his opinions can’t help but get intertwined. This rare form of self PR can work in two ways: people either respect that you have a strong mind and aren’t afraid to voice it, or they take exception to the fact that you call out others for not being real enough and keep tight tabs on your work for any signs of weakness. In the case of Jay Haze I’m not going to argue about the validity of his realness, but his latest release on Contexterrior certainly shows signs of some weakness.

Having upped sticks from Berlin and moved to Peru, there was no question Haze would be influenced at a musical level by the transition. Evidence appears via the sampling of a heavy thunder storm for “The Storm,” a thirteen minute plus epic that purports an apocalyptic atmosphere building for seven minutes until the beat finally falls over the rain soaked backdrop. Although Haze effects a suitably ominous treatment of the menacing synth sounds, they appear almost plastic next to the organic sound of sodden, pouring skies. The build up itself is positively progressive sounding, and one can’t help but think of “Riders on the Storm” when any piece of music samples rain and thunder, making “The Storm” check several boxes that don’t bear checking. “2012″ is a straight forward percussive jam, playing out a simple acid groove over heavy, rolling toms. With very little evolving in the track it can only really be described as a mixing tool, though in the right hands could prove a very effective one. Further evidence of Haze’s South American emigration can be found in the choice of vocal samples littering the track, which attempt to provide some sense of narrative. Though “2012″ stands out I can’t help but feel it’s because of the lackluster nature of the weak A-side; overall his Enter The Darkenss EP is a disappointing release from Jay Haze.

Not only is Carl Craig one of the most prolific electronic producers out of the 313 postcode, but with a discography rooted in techno that has stretched through free-form electronica, modern classical, jazz and beyond, he is proving to be one of the great musical artists of his generation. His Planet E label has charted the majority of his career and pseudonyms, from some of his earliest releases as 69, through to seminal albums like More Songs About Food And Revolutionary Art. It has also played home to exceptional releases from Moodymann, Kenny Larkin, Kevin Saunderson and Recloose. While other producers and labels have come and gone, Carl Craig and Planet E have forged a path ever forward, pushing themselves and their art to uncharted territory. Carl was kind enough to talk to LWE about what makes his twenty year old record label tick, and offered valuable insight into some of his other projects outside of Planet E. He also drafted Monty Luke to compile Talking Shopcast 09, an exclusive mix of Planet E works from the past present and future.

You launched Planet E very early in your career. You were already finding success on labels like Fragile and Transmat. What was the reason for starting your own label?

Carl Craig: Well I already had Retroactive Records before Planet E, but I had a partner in the label and it got to the point where I just didn’t want anyone else having any say in my music. Some artists like to be affirmed by other people’s thoughts about what their music is supposed to be, but I already had a clear idea about what I wanted my music to be so I didn’t need anyone else telling me what needed to be changed or altered because I already felt strong about what I was doing, so I started Planet E.

What was your vision when you started Planet E and has that changed at all over the years?

The vision was for it to be this futuristic music that was kind of in line with the current trend at the time of electronic music coming out, but also a little bit in front of it. Also free-form, too, so it wouldn’t be like — since 808 State had put out Pacific State, that every record we made would sound like Pacific State, you know? Like with 69, it wasn’t necessarily in line with anything directly, it was just part of the overall movement that was happening, but it went on to some other shit. It took influences from what Shut Up and Dance were doing, it took influences from what I was already doing and had been influenced by and threw it all into a melting pot. That was how things like “Bug In The Bassbin” happened and Piece’s “Free Your Mind” and “Free Your Soul” happened. All these kinds of different music that were all pushing forward in a very futuristic direction and not being contained by any walls or this concept of what electronic music or techno should be. It was kind of like rolling the dice in terms of what we’d release next. Whereas you had like Strictly Rhythm saying like, ‘Okay we need a hit for our next record, we’ll release a Masters At Work, or Roger Sanchez, we gotta have a Roger Sanchez record,’ We were more like, ‘Okay Kirk Degiorgio is my boy, he’s got this track from his label, let’s do it.’ It was a friendly thing and because we liked what people did and because it was forward and interesting.

After twenty years of running the same label how do you keep something as prone to trends like an electronic record label fresh?

I think now it’s more important for us to pay attention to our clientèle, because before I was kind of this rogue musician just doing whatever I wanted to do. And listening to our clientèle now, they’re screaming for the rogue musician. [laughs] You know, I still put out music that I like and that I find interesting but because record sales are so low we’re all fighting for the same shit. It’s not like if Aphex Twin releases a record and 15,000-20,000 people buy it, and now you get the new version of Aphex Twin come out and he’s relegated to 500 copies. You know it’s not the same times any more, so you have a lot of labels doing whatever it takes to sell their product. But you know if you’re selling like 500 copies in comparison to being able to sell like, 20,000, then fuck what everybody else is doing because 500 copies ain’t shit, so let’s just put out music that’s fresh and interesting and of the next variety. So May was our Detroit music month and we released Detroit records; you had the Kenny Larkin release; you had the Reference release, you had Urban Tribe and The Oliverwho Factory. And that was a statement that needed to be made, that we make music and we support music from Detroit.

You’ve always looked much further afield than just Detroit or America too.

Yeah, I mean, it’s basically just the stuff that I like. There’s only been the odd, very rare occasion that we’ve released something that I haven’t really been supportive of. Everything comes by me and needs to be something that pleases my ears and falls in line with the label, or something that other people just need to hear.

Artists can build an image of themselves for the public and likewise the public build one up of the artist over time. How did you want to be seen when you were starting out?

I didn’t really have the concept of what people were supposed to imagine. It’s not like I wanted people to see me as the Warhol of techno music or anything. It wasn’t until later anyway that I discovered Miles Davis that some aspects of my artistic character came out a bit more in relation to that. The first step was just to make this music.

One of the things that Planet E has done recently is start distributing some other Detroit labels. What was the reason behind this?

It was more a support thing. DJ Deep and I were talking and this was about the time I had finished mixing the Etienne Jaumet record and he had this Kerri Chandler record and he was telling me that the pre-sales were really low. I just thought, this is Kerri Chandler, that’s kind of bullshit. Why aren’t more copies being pressed, people love this guy. So I just told him, look man I think this should be doing more than it’s doing, if you want to try it on our side I can give you a hand. So he came over with the Ben Klock record and that’s where we started. We had started doing a couple of things with KMS a few years ago with the Elevate History remixes too.

What have been some of the moments of the label that have creatively been some of your moments of big growth and change?

I guess when I started putting out albums from other artists was a big growth, so when we released the Moodymann album and when we released the Recloose album, that was a big growth for us. We had a distribution deal at the time with Caroline and that was a big deal, for me at least. After we did that we found we didn’t really have the infrastructure to be able to handle big releases like that or have a distribution deal like that, so we had to refine what we were doing and pull back. Now we’re kind of pushing forward again. So it’s one of those things of doing what you have to, to stay in business. We grow but then we have to refine, or restrict, and then grow again. But I think for us by putting out other artists, that has been our biggest growth factor. I don’t mean to say this in any way that could be construed as anything else but I made the label based on my own music so it can survive just by me releasing my music, but it starts moving into other dimensions by releasing other artists.

It must be hard balancing something you are so passionate about with something that is a commercial enterprise.

Yeah, but I mean for me it’s very important to release something I believe in whether I think it will sell well or not, because for me it is about the importance of the music. Because you have a lot of labels that just put out music that is the same old same old and they kind of go out of business or fade into the background. You have labels that were dominant for a year because their sound was dominant and the next year they’re gone. With Planet E, my influences have been so many. When I was a kid I would look at labels like Warner Brothers who had Funkadelic, B52’s and their offshoots like Sire who had Talking Heads and all this kind of music that was different and was all hot. Casablanca, they had Donna Summer and Parliament, even KISS was on that label, not that I was into them. But having such a broad range of music, that’s how I wanted Planet E to be seen as well, the same way I saw these labels as a ten year old kid.

You were involved in the DEMF again this year after a very lengthy break. How was that for you?

It was good. I mean I was in there as a consultant really. I couldn’t walk in to the situation and say, ‘Hey, I’m the creative director this is how it’s going to be.’ These guys have been doing the festival for the past four years so I’m not going to walk in and push them around. I just gave them suggestions where they asked for them. I wasn’t going to be this big ego walking in after ten years and thinking I was going to run things, it just wasn’t going to happen.

But it was an enjoyable experience for you?

Yeah it was cool, I mean I got to do my thing and focus on the label without having to worry about any small, petty bullshit that can be involved in doing these things. When I did it ten years ago there were just all these things you had to deal with, so many people you have to make happy, whether it’s the artists talking shit in the background or the audience not happy with the way things are done, or maybe the contracts saying that you need a hundred red M&M’s in a clear glass fish bowl or something like that. So all that stuff I didn’t have to deal with, which was great. I mean, I’m a fucking artist as well so I don’t want to have to deal with all of that making sure someone’s back is being rubbed, I want my back rubbed. [laughs]

At the festival you presented a seminar in conjunction with the Detroit School of Arts and the Carl Craig Foundation. Tell us about the foundation.

You know everything I do now, I’ve come to realize I relate back to my teen years or as a pre-teen and how I heard music and how I was influenced, all the things I loved about being a teenager. It’s all hindsight, and I realize I can’t go back and give myself advice about how to talk to some girl, but I can help out teenagers now with some of the music stuff. Back in the second year of the festival I went back to my old high school with the help of this DJ called Magic Mike who was on the public school radio station. So I went back there with Derrick May and Kevin Saunderson because I wanted to make sure that the kids who went to the school that I went to understood that when you have a dream and you follow it you can end up being wherever you want to be. And I was in this situation at the time where I was very happy with what I’d done with being able to travel the world and do my music. And for them to also see Derrick and Kevin and see what we’d been able to do and the different sides of the music industry, it was very new for them.

I mean in 1978 when my parents drove me across the country and I took this little orange skateboard with me, I never for a moment thought that that skateboard could be a way to end up living in mansions and driving Lamborghini’s. It would never have dawned on me, but if someone had come to my school and told me all this, it would have been a real eye-opener for me. So that’s what I want to do with the foundation, to show people that you can really make a great living out of doing something that you love doing. It’s also to show these kids that there is a lot of music outside of what they hear on the radio, because the radio is still really bad, so it’s important to let the kids know what else is out there. So with the foundation, I’m a commissioner on the Detroit Entertainment Commission along with Dr. Cotton from the Detroit School of Arts and one of the other things that I wanted to do with the foundation was to educate as well as fund raise and tie-in with other foundations. There was a viewing from “Suite For Ma Dukes,” which was the 60 piece orchestra movement that was done of all of J. Dilla’s music. So I brought Dilla’s mother in to speak to the commission about Dilla’s music, so that they would understand who he was.

We also decided to do something at the DSA where we could show the kids the professional aspects of the industry. They already have good equipment there and good teachers, but what we did was bring established engineers and studio owners and get them to talk with the kids about how they use Pro-Tools and things like that. So Derrick and Kevin came in and the Paxahau guys came, Mr. Porter who produces for Dr. Dre and Eminem and on the last day Francisco Tristano. It was really good for the kids, but equally for the people who came in, as a lot of them didn’t know about the Detroit School of Arts either.

Download: Talking Shopcast 09: Monty Luke (60:49)

Tracklist:

01. Paul Woolford, “Achilles” (promo edit) [Planet E*]
02. Franck Roger, “Re-Scape” [Guilty Pleasures]
03. Agent X, “Driftin” [Planet E]
04. Kirk Degiorgio, “Vesuvio” [Planet E]
05. Quadrant, Hyperprism (edit) [Planet E]
06. Psycatron ft. Blake Baxter, “She Is Music” (promo edit) [Guilty Pleasures*]
07. Newworldaquarium, “Trespassers” [Planet E]
08. Reference, “Best Night in Detroit” [Planet E]
09. The Oliverwho Factory, “Nightlights” (C2 Bonus Beats) [Planet E]
10. Monty Luke, “Art, Love & War” (C2 Version) [Planet E]
11. Paperclip People, “Slam Dance” [Planet E]
12. Paperclip People, “Clear and Present” [Planet E]
* denotes tracks which, as of the time of publishing, are unreleased

[Dirt Crew Recordings] (buy vinyl) (buy mp3s)

Irishman Niall Mannion has charted a rapid ascension under his Mano Le Tough moniker, immediately impressing with his lovingly concocted blend of house, disco and techno on labels like District of Corruption, Mirau and Internasjonal. Adding Dirt Crew Recordings to that list with his Baby, Let’s Love 12 inch, Mannion furthers his reputation with mixes that cover the deep and techier ends of the house spectrum. Heading over to the Marvin Gaye collection for sample inspiration is a depressingly familiar trend for house producers, but Mannion at least takes only three words from “Let’s Get It On” that form the title of his track, foregoing the typical use of classic Marvin chords or the intro for “Got To Give It Up” which has appeared on more tracks than I care to count.

For the original mix, Mannion sets a subdued tone with the use of resonant, chiming bells, repeating the three words from Marvin like a mantra. Further layers of lilting percussion appear coupled with a bass line that spreads out like a thick layer of smooth peanut butter right to the edges. Iron Curtis keeps the tone of his mix suitably late night, strapping on a rotund Juno bass line and working some heavy, sloppy hi hats in to the fray. He also introduces slight chords that play off against spatial, weightless strings, though for all the weight that his tech house reinterpretation carries, it doesn’t quite match the quality set in the original mix. Jacob Korn’s take comes much closer to that quality, letting dust settle on the deep bells, keeping fragments of the marimba percussion but keeping the overall tone of the track even more restrained than the original. Mannion indulges his disco side on “Started Running,” working around a two beat guitar loop and a small thread of a vocal sample. The slow, winding bass line that he uses on the track at first doesn’t seem to be the best fit but as it plays out, the hybrid of disco and techno makes more sense. Where “Baby, Let’s Love” displayed layers of finesse and subtlety, “Started Running” is simplistic in comparison, but a pleasing floor track nonetheless. The digital only inclusion of an extra remix by Filipsson and Ulysses adds a modern take on disco, with the duo blasting off into deepest, most cosmic space. It makes a well rounded package of the release, which provides several stand-out moments and highlights a name to watch for in Mano Le Tough.

[Mule Musiq] (buy vinyl) (buy mp3s tk)

One of the things you’ll hear hip hop producers bang on about is that musically, the genre can draw influence from anywhere, be it classical, world music or indie rock. I think it’s fair to say that electronic music does the same these days, with more and more producers discovering dance music and incorporating the native music and instruments from their country into their productions. Onur Özer’s Turkish background bleeds through his intricate, minimal tracks, as does Villalobos’ South American heritage in many of his productions. For Raoul Konan, his introduction to electronic music came in 1992 when he moved from his native town of Agboville on the Ivory Coast to Hamburg. While soaking up the culture and the sounds of the city he began DJing and producing, later incorporating the sounds of West Africa into the tracks he commited to vinyl on his own Baobob label, which he started in 2007 as Mr. Raoul K. His latest release on Mule Musiq, The African Government, shows two different sides to the producer: the one who emigrated to Germany with a head full of African sounds and was indoctrinated by the prevalent sounds of his new home town, and the one who is now producing his own versions of those clubs tracks with which he became enraptured.

The original mix of “The African Government” is full of the smile inducing, feel good rhythms of acoustic African guitars, organic hand drumming and light, sonorous percussion. For all its light airiness it is underpinned by an occasional, deeply rooted bass that keeps the groove together, grounding the otherwise flighty track. Yet with so many layers of infectious melody all tugging at your feet it’s hard not to get carried away. On the flip the “Piano Influence Mix” doesn’t bear too much comparison to the original, save for the same hypnotic feeling imbued in both tracks. Searching, transcendent analog synths finger their way towards celestial bodies, sounding very much like DJ Skull’s 1998 analogue gem, “When Will I Be Free.” The slight flourishes are what make the track; the backwards, detuned drum that creeps in at the end of each bar, the particular fuzz that grows on the bass sound like plaque on unbrushed teeth, the almost inaudible, filtered hats that slide through certain parts of the track. These are the things that sink in to your subconscious when you listen to music and keep you coming back for more, something that is very easy to do with this release.

[M-Plant] (buy CD) (buy mp3s)

The conceptualization of science fiction through techno is nothing new, especially not for Robert Hood. As far back as his first albums, Internal Empire and Minimal Nation, Hood has posited the existence of other worlds, alternate realities, and supposed futures. His latest long player, Omega returns to this recurring theme, postulating a post-apocalyptic world of decay and decrepitude in which one man works to find a cure for a plague that has rendered any human survivors zombies. The basis of inspiration for the album comes from the 1971 movie Omega Man starring Charlton Heston, an adaptation of Richard Matheson’s 1954 novel I Am Legend. In keeping with the waste and burned out, outlaw society depicted in the film, Hood’s tracks are charged with a bleak, mutant desolation. However, where the B-grade Heston flick is soundtracked by a copacetic, funk/jazz accompaniment that sounds every ounce a part of the decade it was made in, Omega the album is cut through with an urgent, futuristic score that profiles the ideas contained in Omega Man rather than the style it was made in.

Hood captures his dystopian vision expertly; from the narrated intro “Alpha (The Beginning)” and tone-setting “The Plague (Cleansing Maneuvers)” through to the aptly titled “Omega (End Times),” he builds the music around his ideas. Much of the album sounds like it is written from an impersonal viewpoint; that is to say that tracks like “Think Fast” and “Towns That Disappeared Completely” feel like they are the theme music of the conceptual plague itself. There are moments that feel more like human expression: “Are You God?” reverberates with a searching, thoughtful tone, and “The Workers Of Iniquity” also carries with it a certain sense of being hand wrought. The bulk of Omega, though, feels like music is being produced by the stark, febrile world it depicts. On “War In The Streets” you can hear the crackle of digitally rendered fires burning, pulsing war cries of zombies bent on destruction, and on “The Family Watches” the staccato chime makes the synths seem to be transmitting in Morse code.

Hood’s minimal techno remains every bit as vital now as it was when he started making the tracks that coined the term. On the surface this album could come across like some of the more unforgiving sketches of what has come to be known as Berghain techno, though deeper meditation on Omega reveals that within the walls of Omega is a heart and moreover a funk. That funk is sometimes all that belies the human construction of these tracks, so good is Hood at conveying the bleak nature of the album’s themes. And it is that funk that separates Omega from being strictly a concept album to one that will also remain in plenty of record crates for a long time to come.

[Innervisions] (buy vinyl) (buy mp3s)

In the space of seven years or so Kristian Beyer and Frank Wiedemann have become an indispensable part of electronic music. The pair, along with Dixon and Henrik Schwarz, embody more than just the memorable tracks that stay with you after a night out; their music is the result of artistic divination, of applying ideas and themes through everything they do, of using their chosen media to explore the realms of the artist.
The Rrose Sélavy EP, their first solo release of 2010, references the work of Marcel Duchamp in its title (which was one of the artist’s pseudonyms) and in the playful manner that Âme toy with evolving melodies and reappearing ideas that is very much in line with Duchamp’s playful approach to his art.

Âme start in deep house mode on “Rrose Sélavy,” weaving spine tingling textures and repetitive melodies that dip in and out of the track as it progresses. Their attention to detail is, as ever, meticulous, with each sound clearly defined from the others. Whispered fragments of speech pepper the track, while eerie, high pitched sounds play against the deep, bottomed out bass and groove. “Junggesellenmaschine,” which translates to bachelor machine, was another of Duchamp’s concepts that explored the idea of a machine that was mechanical and sexual, male and female. Âme’s interpretation of this idea is played out with mechanical whirs, circuits straining and breaking, fuses burning out and a great warmth from an all encompassing bass line. Listen closer and there are clearly parts that can be distinguished as male and female; soothing melodic tinkles and more masculine, beaten drums. In exploring conceptual ideas of one of the great artists of the twentieth century, Âme make some valid musical input, though this is just one level on which the Rrose Sélavy EP works; it’s also another two sides of dance floor bliss from two of the most engaging producers in the game.

For close to fifteen years Marcus Manowski, aka Daze Maxim, has proven himself to be a stalwart of underground techno and house music. Underground in the sense that despite having recorded EP’s for Harthouse, Jakpot, Serial Killers Haircut and Story, and having consistently appeared on influential compilations and mix CDs, his is a name that has eluded the popular stature of some of his peers. His own Hello? Repeat label, which he runs with Jan Krueger, tells a story of quality over quantity with less than twenty releases notched up over the past five years. Manowski’s latest EP, Tomorrow Universe, is only their second for 2010.

“From Hear To There” is a considered, graceful divide between house and techno. Its slight maneuvers evoke comparison to Bruno Pronsato’s “Nobody Calls,” also released by Hello? Repeat last year, but with flecks of pizzicato strings and rolling, bassy undertones this is a more languid, supine track. It sounds an awful lot like Maxim had been listening to old Rob Hood cuts before he made “Heaven Raw”; the heavily treated horn stabs are reminiscent of some older Monobox or Floorplan, though for this burst of kinetic techno, the bass line and overall tone of the rest of the track is strictly a deep house affair. It’s an odd disparity that works surprisingly well, Maxim showcasing his ability to effortlessly straddle the line between styles. The title cut finds a swarm of droning synths hovering over a malaria infested groove; monkeys yelping while wooden blocks and deep log drums are slowly, rhythmically beaten. With subtle percussive turns and a gradual tension building, Maxim takes to the microphone as a scratchy, gristly vocal piece appears near the end of the track. “Tomorrow Universe” is, like the other tracks here, not trying to pack too much into it, working the key sounds in a way that highlights how some of the most effective club cuts don’t need to do too much at all to succeed.

With several titles under his belt using his given name, Australian producer Lewie Day has recently adopted the Tornado Wallace guise, to what ends we can’t be sure. Stylistically, the two personalities seem to enjoy making the same kind of music, though perhaps the differences lie elsewhere, unseen, plotting quietly. In any case, Tornado’s Paddlin’ EP for the Delusions Of Grandeur label will likely see the Melbourne-based talent experience a spike in interest for his polished, classic deep house sound.

“Paddlin’” begins with reverb soaked claps being sucked backwards through distended hi hats before the thick, soupy chords rise up over a filtered disco bass line. It’s deep house with a distinctly Detroit state of mind, recalling the likes of KDJ and Theo Parrish, though most sounding like another producer those two revered figures have influenced, Motor City Drum Ensemble on his Raw Cuts series. “Swimmin’” is an alternate version to “Paddlin’,” slowing the track down further and intensifying the disco elements by going to work on the filters, tweaking the guitar licks and playing around with the vocal samples that are also present in the original mix. Firecracker Recordings bigwigs Linkwood give a special treatment to “Paddlin’,” making the chords shimmer like hot air rising from scorching sand, accenting the summer haze with vocal grunts and sighs. The percussion flows with an organic groove to it, and in many ways the whole production is similar to Pepe Bradock’s late 90’s house classic, “Deep Burnt.” Despite the obvious influences showing through on these tracks, all are executed with such precision it would take the stickliest of sticklers to bemoan a lack of originality. As Kerri Chandler noted: a basement, a red light and a feeling was all that was needed. Well, Tornado Wallace has the third part of that equation all sewn up with his Paddlin’ EP.

[Quartz Music] (buy vinyl tk) (buy mp3s tk)

Surviving through a recession is the mark of a creature ready and able to adapt to their environment. For Paul Ritch, the recession is the down-turn in popularity that minimal has taken over the last year or two; years in which some producers have been engaging in making raw, techno battle tools or injecting maximum warmth via the deep house renaissance. For Ritch’s part, he has been slowly removing the digital clicks and whirs that helped epitomize the genre and is supplanting his tracks with a tougher approach, as evidenced on the two parts of his Canniballs EP’s on his own Quartz imprint. Part 1 of the EP was largely hit and miss, “Suffolk” coming out the strongest track of the four on offer. Part 2 is a three tracker that is stylistically consistent, but unfortunately only with the variable quality of the first.

“Bomberos” pumps out a mid-tempo Drumcode style groove and features some nicely tuned percussive sounds and light chord stabs. On the downside there are roughly chopped samples of an audience erupting with applause and a long, tenuous siren counting off time that worked for E-N back in 1995 with his “Horn Ride” hit, but fifteen years later feels a bit late to the party. “Modelo” likewise is a concoction of contrasts, from the understated, paranoid synth sequence to the hot blasts of white noise, the subtle chug of the mechanical rhythm to the overblown break downs and build ups. Although it is the strongest track on the EP, it seems for every good idea Ritch has, he takes another too far, leaving you wishing he had employed the musical equivalent of Calvin Klein’s ethos of taking off at least one item of clothing before leaving the house. “Spirit” succumbs to the very same traps as “Modelo,” which is a shame, as again, some of the parts are well crafted. In forging a new sound for himself it feels like Paul Ritch is covering up his tendencies towards producing the same bouncy, minimal tracks that won him some acclaim three or four years ago.

[Boy's Own Recordings] (buy vinyl)

The short-lived duo of Jason Load and Pavel DeJesus, aka Extortion, may not have made any big waves in the global waters of dance music but one of their singles was fortunate enough to feature the remix talents of one Joey Negro. Negro (born Dave Lee) had been a veteran since the bleary summer of ‘88 when he debuted as part of M-D-Emm on Transmat with 1666/Get Acidic. From those brooding, raw beginnings, Negro rose to become one of the most commercially successful remixers from England, working with everyone from Mariah Carey to Lionel Ritchie. His love of disco and house music quickly shone, through; his vision was captured on his own labels like Republic (who were one of the first UK labels to license New York house and garage) and Z Records.

Extortion’s own “U.S. Remix” on this Boy’s Own release is a competent, if fairly typical track for its day. The warm, deep house tones contain just a hint of a progressive vibe and the vocal by Dihan Brooks is a soulful, lost-man plea to her sisters. The difference being that instead of Brooks singing a cheating lover on his way, she is openly voicing her insecurities as she relates the tale of a good man she can’t keep. Negro’s main remix is a basically a beefier version of the original, just with much better production and sound. It’s a good track but Negro’s “Young Soul Rebel Mix” on the flip is the one to go for. The deep, disco bass line brings on a swell of organic instruments, from the silken horns to the live percussion feel, making for a more natural setting for Brooks’ vocals. It shows Negro’s love for the garage house sound from New York and New Jersey he was championing and his ability to take a song and completely make it his. Negro’s remixes and production showed a softer side to UK dance music that seemed at that time to be largely more concerned with acid house and the bleep of Sheffield techno.