Less of an intentionally confusing title than might be thought, Reilly for all intents and purposes is Durutti no matter the changes through the years -- Vini Reilly does signal another new phase of the band's work, moving into a full embrace of technological possibilities via an Akai sampler. With Reilly and Mitchell joined by a slew of guests -- Swing Out Sister keyboardist Andy Connell; singers Pol, Rob Gray, and Liu Sola; and even former member John Metcalfe on the epic surge "Finding the Sea" -- Durutti this time around pursued the organic/machine combination to even more successful conclusions than on The Guitar. Reilly's singing has often come in for criticism (unwarranted, really, considering how his soft approach effortlessly suits the general atmosphere of Durutti's work), so the slew of sampled and borrowed snippets from other vocalists and musicians that pepper the album makes for an intriguing change. "Love No More," the album opener, shows how the approach can work, with acoustic guitar to the fore and echoed, truly haunting snippets of what sound like soul and opera singers wafting through the mix. Another full-on highlight is "Otis," with Pol's live singing and Connell's keyboards combining with a brisk synth loop, building Mitchell drums, an astonishing, uplifting Reilly guitar line, and the legendary singer Mr. Redding himself in a combination that needs to be heard. Mitchell's overall work on percussion is less prominent than before but still present, while Reilly's guitar efforts are again simply wonderful, further testing new approaches on both acoustic and electric that call to mind everyone from John Fahey to Bootsy Collins. If that last comparison seems strange, give the loud and funky "People's Pleasure Park" a listen, then marvel at how Sola's lovely singing and Reilly's further guitar runs transform it yet again. The 1996 reissue is one of the most comprehensive of the series, including not merely two more tracks recorded around that time but selections from Sporadic Recordings. Given by Reilly to a friend to release, as Factory otherwise couldn't easily fit it into its own schedule, it's a generally more stripped-down affair. The six numbers here include a variety of winners like the upbeat, appropriately titled "Real Drums -- Real Drummer" and the Pat Nevin/football tribute "Shirt No. 7." "
Following the new wave classic Sextet, this Manchester/New York post-punk funk unit's third album, I'd Like to See You Again, points toward a more minimal, stripped-down funk sound. This was apparently influenced heavily by the New York club scene of the early '80s, in which A Certain Ratio immersed themselves following their formation in Manchester. The departure of vocalist Martha Tilson left the band working in a more rhythmic instrumental approach, eschewing the pop forms of Sextet and focusing on a harder electro-funk sound. While this revealed the influence of time spent in club culture and marked a radical departure from the melancholy Manchester sound of their previous albums, the band kept their melodic passages intact, which created a tension between bright and dark moods that was the striking characteristic of their best work. The fact that this album fared well on the dancefloor some 20 years after its release may indicate that A Certain Ratio was ahead of their time. Their influence could be heard cropping up in strains of the Brit-pop, techno, post-rock, and house of the late '90s. Hence, I'd Like to See You Again is an album that deserves a revisit. Essential listening for fans of the Factory sound that spawned the British club sound exemplified by New Order and the New York wave of minimal funk groups, like Liquid Liquid and ESG.
Naturally, NME called Hard-Fi's debut album, Stars of CCTV, "the album of the year" upon its U.K. release in 2005. A year later, the Staines, England, foursome had a Mercury Music Prize nomination under its belt as well as two Brit Awards nods and a U.K. number one album. Those following the buzz on the other side of the Atlantic finally got their wish with the domestic release of Stars of CCTV in mid-March. With the popularity of Franz Ferdinand, Kasabian, and the Kaiser Chiefs simmering down around this time, Hard-Fi stepped into the American pop conscience when they were supposed to. While their spark and spunk are near matches of those aforementioned acts, Hard-Fi delivers more of an angst kind of performance. Frontman Richard Archer is fueled by Tony Blair's England. After all, these are four friends from a southwest London town. They sound like a garage band while delving into the monotony of everyday suburban life, referring to their small town upbringing. Thus a raw kind of work ethic gradually emerges on Stars of CCTV. Their formula of snappy choruses and tight guitar hooks, particularly on "Middle Eastern Holiday" and "Gotta Reason," captures Hard-Fi's youthful presentation. Archer's boyish vocals switch off between gritty and playful. If "Living for the Weekend" does not convince you of Hard-Fi's anxious effort in getting you to ease up on the ho-hum of working for a living, the fresh disco beats of "Hard to Beat" surely will. Hard-Fi's desire to create something solid enjoyable in the midst of everyday monotony is what makes Stars of CCTV an enjoyable first effort. Whether they are singing about having little money, unexpected pregnancy ("Cash Machine"), or a war-torn world ("Feltham's Singing Out"), Hard-Fi looks for something positive. Stars of CCTV offers a reason to look for something positive
Pre-release hubbub might have you thinking Kasabian's debut is the Stone Roses' firstborn all over again, or that it's a Screamadelica for its generation. Almost, but these lads could use one more spin around the U.K.'s hippest clubs to really polish their craft to Madchester-in-its-prime level. What their debut succeeds in providing is out-of-the-gate excitement, a trippy sack of playful ideas, and a keen understanding of what makes hips sway and heads bob. If hearing Stereolab backing Ian Brown is your dream, "Reason Is Treason" should be your indie rock seducer. If you always wished prog rock danced in baggy jeans, "Test Transmission" should do it. A couple tracks that are show-ers more than grow-ers keep the album from being perfect, but when a Disneyland/Perrey-Kingsley-style keyboard riff plays over a dubby landscape and then gives way to an earnest, catchy hippie chorus, you can't help but fall in love with this ambitious, smart band. You can fill the ashtray with roaches during the cinematic "Butcher Blues" and make your Tangerine Dream-loving friend happy with the space rock meets angst rock of "U Boat." Lead singer Tom Meighan is one part Jagger and one part Richards, with a Beatles haircut and quote-generating, rebellious-interview mouth. They all live together commune style and their sleeves and badges use near-Rage Against the Machine imagery. Heavy, but their debut is a shaggy kind of charming that would work better if you tripped over it instead of having the hype trying to squeeze the word "revolutionary" out of your throat. Painting them as rock's saviors just makes the overly ambitious moments of the album look all that much bigger. Some serious heartbreak, or life for a little while outside of the commune, should broaden these songwriters' abilities to the level promised, but for now they're just exciting, groovy, and proud fathers of a dazzling debut.
From 1982 - 1997, 15 years of club culture have been put together in one collection showing the progression of club anthems through the years. With contemporary hits from Armand Van Helden (The Funk Phenomena), The Bucketheads (The Bomb), Basement Jaxx (Fly Life) as well as some old classics like New Order/Rockers Revenge (Confusion/ Walking On Sunshine), Alison Limerick (Where Love Lives), Dee Lite (Wild Times), and Londonbeat (There's an Acid House Going On), this is a great diverse collection.
The dance community already owes New Order a significant amount of respect and praise for the band's contributions, but few casual fans of dance music realize just how much the group fostered the club scene in the U.K. during the '80s and '90s. Case in point: the Haçienda, a nightclub largely founded by Factory Records owner Tony Wilson. The money from New Order's record sales helped to keep the club afloat, especially during the early years when acts such as Cabaret Voltaire would only fill half the floor. As the club grew and the explosion of electronic dance music from the U.S. infiltrated the other side of the pond, the Haçienda's club nights became the place to see the newest dance acts and hear the latest sounds played by DJs. This two-disc set covers some of the most well-known dancefloor fillers of the time, including Yazoo's "Situation," Peech Boys' "Don't Make Me Wait," and Detroit techno anthems such as Cybotron's "Clear" and Derrick May's "Nude Photo." Complete with astonishingly detailed liner notes, this is a must-have for anyone who wants to experience the best the club had to offer as well as a wonderful souvenir for those lucky enough to live through the madness the first time around.
The Land of Rape and Honey represented Ministry's stylistic breakthrough, combining assaultive percussion, samples, synths, and (sometimes) crunching guitars with distorted, barking vocals. For all the emphasis on the group's metal/industrial fusion, it's really only the first three (and best) tracks on Rape and Honey -- "Stigmata," "The Missing," and "Deity" -- that employ guitars extensively. The remainder of the album merely suggests heavy metal aggression through its electronic and sampled elements; it is far more industrial in feel, even though it's just as dark. Ministry was the industrial band that, more than any other, appealed to metal fans, and it was The Land of Rape and Honey that began to lay claim to that status.
Many contemporary techno producers are deeply in the debt of Bon Harris and Douglas McCarthy, who while not godfathers of that scene are at least cherished uncles. Novamute's decision a few years back to press to wax official remixes of Nitzer Ebb anthems from artists like Terence Fixmer, Thomas P. Heckmann, and The Hacker couldn't have received a better reception. Since then, you'd be hard pressed to go to just about any hard techno event in the known world without hearing at least one of these bangers. Although a companion release featuring those reworks and others was also made available on CD recently, Body of Work, a compendium of 32 tracks including an entire disc of selected mixes, will hopefully acquaint at least some of those revellers with the originators' originals.
Starting from the promising metal-on-metal spark of Warsaw Ghetto b-side "Isn't It Funny How Your Body Works," ending on Big Hit I Thought", and hitting all the necessary points in between, the first half of this double disc committedly runs through Nitzer Ebb's recording career, warts and all. Of course the hits are covered, with "Join In The Chant" and "Control, I'm Here" sounding just as incredible now as they did when I first heard them as an angsty teenager in New York City clubs. Though their best known cuts came off This Total Age and Belief ("Murderous" and "Hearts And Minds" being my personal favorites from those), there were several quite memorable singles from the subsequent, less acclaimed Showtime and Ebbhead records. "Getting Closer" and "Fun To Be Had" might not have been furious fist pumping anthems like "Let Your Body Learn," though they showcased the duo pushing their sound further, and successfully at that. The same cannot be said for the selections from 1995's Big Hit, which over a decade later still disappoint and frustrate even their most devoted fans. I'm almost certain that nothing from that critical and commercial flop even made it into the setlists of their North American reunion tour this year.
What makes this compilation particularly worthwhile even for those who own all these albums is the inclusion of selected material found on the singles, including rare songs and remixes that retrospectively deserve more exposure. Many of these treats are found on the second disc, my favorites being the alternate mixes, a number of which are only available on long out-of-print singles. Ranging in style from the grit and grime of "Shame (Mix Two)" and "Control I'm Here (Strategic Dancefloor Initiative Mix) to the funkier "Fun To Be Had (Long Version)" and "Hearts And Minds (Mix Hypersonic),
Their second album Electro Glide in Blue opens with a sublime short instrumental Stealth Overture, before launching in earnest into the second single Ain’t Talkin’ ‘Bout Dub. Largely built around a Van Halen sample with some lively drum and bass affectations, it’s both iconic and great, although I suspect if you weren’t there in 1997, it would be more than a little difficult to understand why.
Altamont Super-Highway Revisited is next, perhaps one of the weaker tracks on here, but it bounces along pleasantly enough until we get to title track Electro Glide in Blue, a dark eight-and-a-half minute odyssey full of self-doubt and angst.
From one epic to another, Vanishing Point is next, a gentle drum and bass piece with enormous vocal pads and even bigger bass. While most people were busy hanging around being sultry in soundalike indie bands, Apollo 440 were to be found creating seven or eight minute electronic opuses.
That is not to say that guitars don’t have their place here, as Tears of the Gods demonstrates, with a great vocal from Charles Bukowski, but the guitar work here is altogether more soulful than what most people were throwing around in the mid-1990s.
Final single Carrera Rapida is next, the theme from a computer game called Rapid Racer, and the single came with a great CD containing all the background music from the game, all built around the theme of this track. By itself, it’s lively, but probably not the best thing on here.
Then comes the lead single Krupa, an homage to a drummer called Gene Krupa, and so the focus of the piece is largely the drumming, with a couple of repeated synth lines over the top. It’s entirely unexpected, but very good nonetheless.
Following a quieter moment with White Man’s Throat, the finest moment on the album comes with the glorious Pain in Any Language, featuring Billy Mackenzie on vocals. It’s another long one, clocking in at nearly nine minutes in duration, but right from the start the slightly Asian sounding chimes and emotive vocals really make you feel something special.
That only leaves us to return to the beginning for an enormous pseudo-classical piece Stealth Mass in F#m, which with its choral vocals seems slightly out of place, unless you’re happy to accept that Apollo 440 were really just doing whatever they wanted here, a fact which is comfortably backed up by the bonus track on the end, the other single Raw Power, a hugely energetic piece that shakes you up rather after the gentler ending which preceded it.
