In Italien ist Clubmusik schon seit der klassischen Ära von Disco in den 1970ern integraler Bestandteil von la dolce vita. Seit damals wird mit offenen Armen empfangen, was von den nordamerikanischen Metropolen herüberschwappt. In Italien wird der musikalische Input mit elastischem Verhältnis zu Urheberrechten in etwas umgedeutet, das dem Lebensgefühl an Adria und Mittelmeer eher entspricht. Kopieren lohnt sich künstlerisch und vor allem kommerziell. Daran hat sich bis heute kaum etwas geändert: Der lockere Umgang der Italiener mit Originalmaterial ist kreativ und zugleich berüchtigt, unzählige halbseidene Coverversionen und Bootlegs zeugen davon.
Man muss aber ebenso konstatieren, dass stets etwas Originäres dabei entstanden ist. Italo-Disco-Musik der achtziger Jahre ist das Kardinalbeispiel hierfür. Was zunächst in Resteuropa noch als billige Plastikversion von Disco verschrien war und als Musik, zu der eher die Jugendlichen aus einfachen Verhältnissen in der lokalen Diskothek den Disco Fox tanzten, mutierte schnell zu einem internationalen Einfluss mit erstaunlicher Langlebigkeit und Hipness-Faktor.
Ein Grund dafür ist sicherlich der unbedarfte Charme der italienischen Musik, ein anderer ist aber auch die Innovationsfreude ihrer Produzent:innen. So verwundert es nicht, dass die Pioniertage von House Music ab Mitte der 1980er in Chicago und Detroit gespickt waren mit Importplatten aus Italien, die in den Playlists wichtiger US-Radiosender und den entsprechenden Clubs tiefe Spuren hinterlassen haben. Es gelangte quasi etwas in die USA zurück, das sich sehr von dem unterschied, was man zuvor nach Europa exportiert hatte.
Und mit House entlässt man dann abermals eine gewichtige neue Komponente in das Nachtleben der Alten Welt, und wieder wurde sie gerade in Italien besonders schnell begeistert verarbeitet. Die Genese von Italo House ab Ende der 1980er folgt dabei den bewährten Mustern der Jahre zuvor, was nicht weiter verwunderlich ist, denn viele Protagonisten, wie etwa Ricky Montanari und Claudio Rispoli alias Moz-Art waren als DJs und Produzenten schon seit der Disco-Ära aktiv und gingen bei der Adaption von House ähnlich zweckorientiert vor.
Äußerst hilfreich war, dass die italienische Musikindustrie über Jahre Import- und Exportstrukturen aufgebaut hatte, mit der man in Sachen der schnelllebigen Clubmusik stets vorneweg war. Der erste italienische House-Track, der über die Landesgrenzen hinaus Tanzflächen eroberte, ist „Ride on Time“ von Black Box. Seine Musik funktioniert vor allem so gut, weil sie dreist Bestandteile zusammenklaubt, die sich schon vorher bestens bewährt haben. Man kopierte die einprägsamen Pianoakkorde und synthetischen Grooves der frühen US-House-Produktionen wie etwa von Marshall Jeffersons „Jungle Wonz“ und stellte ein Model ans Mikrofon, welches in Videoclips und Playbackauftritten zu der ungefragt übernommenen Originalstimme von Loleatta Holloways Disco-Klassiker „Love Sensation“ (1980) mimt. Wie man damit durchkommen kann, obwohl der Song zu einem beträchtlichen Hit wurde? Ganz einfach, „Ride on Time“ klingt derart umwerfend, dass man erst viel später Fragen wegen Plagiatsvorwürfen stellte.
Das Erfolgsrezept ist so simpel wie effizient. Instinktsicher werden die nachhaltigen Elemente des Originals isoliert, die auf der Tanzfläche Ekstase auslösen, produziert sie ekstatischer, aber auch gefälliger und lässt ordentlich mediterrane Sonnenwärme rein. Dann werden etliche Veröffentlichungen nachgeschoben, die mehr oder weniger nach dem gleichen Muster funktionieren, und schon bald hat man ein eigenes Genre erschaffen, dass sich bis heute ungebremst in zahllosen Variationen zwischen Eurodance, UK Breakbeats und balearischen Großraum-Clubhits fortpflanzt.
Italienische Clubmusik muss im großen Rahmen funktionieren, was durchaus ein wichtiges Kriterium ist, denn italienische Clubs sind in der Regel groß. Sehr groß. Sie zeugen von einer langen, stolzen Tradition der Dekadenz und Maßlosigkeit, des ganz breiten Pinselstrichs inklusive Stuck-Säulen auf der Tanzfläche, Außenpools mit Panoramablick und absurden VIP-Bereichen. Man kann diese Etablissements vom Weltall aus erkennen, und den Autokorso dorthin auch. In solchen Clubs muss der DJ klotzen, und nicht kleckern. Nichts und niemand darf das pompöse Gesamtbild mit kleinen Gesten und kleinen Ansprüchen und kleiner Kunst verunreinigen. Nichts bleibt dem Zufall überlassen. Die für Italo House maßgeblichen und größtenteils an der italienischen Riviera ansässigen Clubs wie „Ethos Mama“, „Diabolik’a“, „Vae Victis“, „Cocorico“ und „Peter Pan“ haben eine Kapazität im großzügig drei- bis vierstelligen Bereich: Podest-Tänzer:innen, MCs und DJs, die sich keine Fehler erlauben können. Vor diesem Hintergrund ist es umso erstaunlicher, dass der Sound in der Blütezeit von Italo House ab 1990 nicht so klingt, als müsste er erheblichem kommerziellen Druck standhalten.
An Italo House kann man sicherlich die wichtigen Evolutionsstufen der internationalen House Music ablesen, und die erste Zündstufe Ende der 1980er Jahre ist eine Sturm-und-Drang-Phase, in der bedingungslose Euphorie und Pianos regierten. Der wirklich kreative Schwung setzt aber um 1990 ein, als in den USA der House-Sound deeper wurde. Die italienischen DJs und Produzenten mussten ein gehöriges Erweckungserlebnis gehabt haben, als etwa Larry Heard und Marshall Jefferson versonnenere Tracks produzierten oder etwas später in New York auf dem wichtigen Label-Triumvirat Strictly Rhythm, Nu Groove und Nervous Tracks von Wayne Gardiner, Gijo Rosario, Ronald & Rheji Burrell und Roger Sanchez veröffentlicht wurden. Diese Musik postuliert eine deutliche Abkehr von funktionalen Tanzflächen-Imperativen. Italo House ist introspektiv, mit sanft pulsierenden Grooves und vor allem mit bittersüß-emotionalen Flächen ausgestattet und wird alsbald als Ambient und Mellow House in den Kanon aufgenommen. Bereits 1989 schickten Angelo Albanese und Massimino Lippoli den sich sehr großzügig bei Manuel Göttschings „E2-E4“ bedienenden Clubhit „Sueño Latino“ auf den Weg.
Eine Blaupause für italienische House-Produktionen, mit denen sich jeder Club in eine weltumarmende Utopie von Glückseligkeit mit Meerblick verwandeln lässt und jeder urbane Alltagskampf inmitten weniger azurblauer Umgebungen augenblicklich in Vergessenheit gerät. In den Studios arbeiten nun beispielsweise Carlo Troya alias Don Carlos, Claudio Coccoluto und Enrico Mantini an Musik, die sich anhört wie ein Sprung ins glitzernde Wasser eines sonnendurchfluteten Swimmingpools. Und wenn man am anderen Ende wieder auftaucht, sieht man schöne Menschen in luftiger Bekleidung und schweißtreibenden Bewegungen, und da kommt auch schon der nächste Drink. Die meisten Italo-Produzenten sind erfahrene DJs, sie wissen genau, was sie selbst wollen, und vor allem, was ihr Publikum will. Und dafür ist jedes Mittel recht. Auf Labels wie Irma, Palmares, DFC, UMM und Calypso zelebrieren sie eine hemmungslose Opulenz, die bis knapp vor die Kitschgrenze stößt, die Pianos sind immer noch prominent im Mix, bloß etwas weicher gestimmt, gesampelte oder eingesungene Stimmen vermitteln Botschaften von Liebe und Zusammenhalt, die gleichermaßen wahrhaftig wie gelogen sind, und über allem thronen die wärmsten und weichsten Flächen, in die man sich jemals hat reinfallen lassen können.
Es gibt kaum Clubmusik, die mehr Eskapismus und Hedonismus ausstrahlt, mehr Harmonie anbietet und mehr Glück verspricht als Italo House in den 1980er und frühen 1990er Jahren. Aber die Realität hat noch längst jede Illusion zur Strecke gebracht, und Italo House erging es nicht anders. Viele Prachtclubs an der Adria wirkten irgendwann wie Relikte und mussten schließen. Tänzer:innen brauchten andere Attraktionen, Clubkultur wollte mit neuen Trends gefüttert werden, DJs und Produzenten wollten sich nicht länger wiederholen. Die Spuren sind dennoch nicht mehr zu tilgen, und es war nur eine Frage der Zeit, bis die Revival-Zyklen wieder bei Italo House gelandet sind. Im Internetzeitalter ist eine musikalische Stilrichtung schnell erschlossen und über virtuelle Verkaufsportale verfügbar, und so treibt mittlerweile eine junge Generation die Gebrauchtpreise der Originale in den Bereich des Irrsinns, veröffentlicht aber auch Legendäres und Vergessenes neu. DJs, Produzenten und Publikum verfallen wieder den bewährt verführerischen Reizen dieser Musik.
Und es gibt auch wieder haufenweise aktuelle Produktionen, die den Faden da aufnehmen, wo man ihn Mitte der 1990er Jahre hat fallen lassen, mit frischen Ideen und modernen Mitteln. Etwa von den norwegischen Künstlern Skatebård und DJ Fett Burger und vom italienischen Produzenten Cosmic Garden (Nicola Loporchio). Das Leben wird nicht einfacher, die Sorgen werden nicht weniger, und dann kann man auch ruhigen Gewissens zu bewährten House-Mitteln greifen.
Although acid house exports provided the sound blueprints for Second
Summer of Love in the late 80s, the rawness of the US originals often
did not really match the ecstasy fuelled day-glo hedonism that was
sweeping UK clubland. Of course the pioneering tracks from Chicago,
Detroit and New York had the same huge impact in English clubs as
they had in Continental Europe, and the American originators brought
music that was informed by no less aspiring ambitions, but it was
also often produced on the equipment that you could afford in
problematic social environments, and its initial target group was
more local, and on another street level than the almost proverbial
MDMA hugs between football hooligans or other thugs and the dancers
they were previously beating up. But UK pop and club culture had
interpreted outside influences into something more pop before and
sent it back, as it had happened with the British Invasion in the 60s
and lovers rock in the 70s, and house, and particularly acid house,
was no exception. In the UK, some clever people not only heard a
difference, they also understood that it had potential far beyond
that. Just a new, small and dedicated scene at first, but maybe more.
Or even much more.
Baby
Ford seemed to have a very clear vision of what was missing for the
music to really cross over and reach such potential, and with his
first promising releases from 1988 up to his first album „Fordtrax“
he brilliantly merged inspirations from Larry Heard, Derrick May or
Todd Terry with a knowledgeable pop sensibility. But in contrast to
other successful London cohorts of the Rhythm King label like Bomb
The Bass, S‘Express, The Beatmasters, and Coldcut on their label
Ahead Of Our Time, he did not succumb almost entirely to the charms
of the wild days of sampling, instead aiming more for his own
musicianship than a wild collage of references with a beat. And in
contrast to Manchester artists like 808 State and A Guy Called
Gerald, who achieved a similarly distinctive sound, he was ready,
willing and able to sing as well, and he implied his sense of humour.
Be it „Ooochy Koochy“ or „Chikki Chikki Aah Aah“, his music
was catchy and smart, but instrumental gems like „Fordtrax“
already proved that he knew how to arrange and set a mood. He seemed
to make fine use of his influences as much as he made them his own,
and he established a mini-canon of his own work in which his ideas
naturally referred to each other.
Already a year later his second album „’Ooo’ The World Of Baby
Ford“ aimed considerably higher. There are variations of „Fordtrax“
material but in a different, more mellow mood („Milky Tres / Chikki
Chikki Aah Aah“). Which is perfectly ok if your source material is
good enough to be reinterpreted in such a short time. Other tracks
like „Let‘s Talk It Over“ or „The World Is In Love“ have a
similar mood, somehow as urban as pastoral, sublime and full of hope.
„Beach Bump“ or „A Place Of Dreams & Magic“ are more over
the top, reviving the camp fun of „Oochy Koochy“ and other
livelier tracks he made before. And then there are tracks that hint
at the idea of this album as a continuation of gone but yet still
lasting UK youth cultures. In terms of music „Poem For Wigan“ and
„Wigan“ have not much in common with the 70s northern soul haven
Wigan Casino (or the Jazz Funk and later Electro played at Wigan Pier
club by its resident DJ Greg Wilson), but Baby Ford grew up near
Wigan and experienced what happened there, and both tracks have a
sentiment true to the inspiration. You may now flock to other clubs
and dance to other sounds, but the spirit is the same. Else the cover
version of T.Rex‘s „Children Of The Revolution“ is more
obvious, putting the 70s glam rock anthem into the context of the
acid house movement, whose children won‘t be fooled either. It is
time again for the UK youth to rise up against it, and this is how it
sounds. And then the according modern grooves also meet the
modernized version of the hippie era aesthetics that the tabloids and
authorities directly diverted to blame and prosecution. Where there
are loved up messages and melodies, psychedelic colours and a quest
for an alternative way of living, there must be something for society
to fight back, regardless of what you are afraid of in the 60s, 70s,
80s, or the decades to come. Us against them, forever irreconcilable.
This
album captured the revolutionary spirit and joy of that time
perfectly, and it indirectly predicted why it could not last. It was
not widely perceived as a defining statement and Baby Ford did not
become the defining pop star, and he seemed to abandon his bright
ideas soon after. First with the subsequent 1992 album „BFORD9“,
which still had some traces of his prior optimism left, but which
also confrontationally displayed disillusionment, darker topics and
harder sounds, until he reduced his persona and sound more and more,
albeit still with consistently great creative results. Either way,
Baby Ford‘s world may have not been big enough, but you still think
‚Ooo‘ when you think of it.
At the end of the 80s house music added deep. Seminal artists like Larry Heard, Marshall Jefferson or Virgo Four abandoned the track-dominated sound palette and introduced musicianship to a genre that was then better known for dancefloor functionality. But it was from 1990 on that the vibe really spread and developed, particularly in New York City. I first heard the term flute house when Roger Sanchez released „Luv Dancin‘“ by Underground Solution. Some also called it ambient or mellow house. But the music was not made for home listening purposes, DJs would use it, too. As a gentle introduction, or as a moment of regeneration during peak time, or as the best possible way to ease the crowd out again into the early morning, so that not a single glorious moment of what just happened the hours before was tainted by something less. A lot of these tracks had enough kicks to have you working at any time, but they also seemed to be created for unique moments, closed eyes, embraces, disbelief evoked by sheer beauty. A lot of these tracks had tags like ambient or jazz in their titles and credits, but they did not really try to be either. The artists involved liked to display their musical abilities, and their skills to establish a mood and an atmosphere. They knew how to write a melody, they knew how to arrange their layers and instruments, they were determined to sound as good as their means would allow. By the time Frankie Knuckles‘ Whistle Song was released in 1991, the flutes, vibraphones, saxophones or similar instruments were already derided, but the sound had come to stay, until this day. This playlist gathers some classic moments that paved the way.
Logic – The Final Frontier (Acoustic Mix) (Strictly Rhythm, 1990)
Wayne Gardiner took Larry Heard’s gentle elegance (the bassline is lifted from Fingers Inc.’s deep house blueprint “Can You Feel It”) and added the archetypical swing of early 90s New York City house. His back catalogue is filled with lots of sublime grandeur, but this track is structured like a jazz band taking turns on their respective instruments, and steadily building up layer after layer of tension and drama in the process. The result is still peerless.
That Bobby Konders quit producing house music for a career in dancehall and dub productions when he was capable of track like this, is still a an irreparable trauma for many. As with many of his tunes, this can completely zone you out. Eight minutes of considerably relentless flutiness, accompanied by a dubbed out bassline and some eerie strings. A psychedelic masterpiece.
The Vision – Shardé (Nu Groove, 1991)
Eddie Maduro was an accomplice of Wayne Gardiner (for example he co-wrote Logic‘s „The Warning“ and supplied its seminal vocal introduction), and this is one of his finest moments. It is named after his daughter, and I am very convinced that the world would be a better place if such a beautiful piece of music would be composed for every child.
The Nick Jones Experience – Wake Up People (Massive B, 1991)
New Jersey DJ and producer Nick Jones with a total gem on Bobby Konders‘ Massive B imprint, with some help by Satoshi Tomiie. Not your typical house groove, but this forever remained a special track for special moments anyway. But if chosen wisely, it can elevate those moments to something completely else, be it in the club or when you are on your own.
Beautiful People – I Got The Rhythm (Club Mix) (Cabaret, 1991)
I assume this collaboration of Joey Longo aka Pal Joey with Manabu Nagayama and Toshihiko Mori came into being when King Street Sounds label head Hisa Ishioka introduced American and Japanes producers to each other in the early 90s. This tracks bears the trademark Pal Joey mixture of hip hop ruffness and deep sounds, but it is way longer, more complex in structure, and it even adds a steady breakbeat to fine effect. Beautiful People indeed, and they sure got the rhythm.
The now defunct UK magazine The Face used to end each issue with a one-liner, but when I read the words “Vocals Matter” there sometime in the mid 90s, it deeply afflicted me. Was there really a need to point this out? In fact there was. A vocalist and a song were basic elements of House Music since its early days in the Mid 80s. Which was not really surprising, after all House was a direct continuation of what started in the mid 70s with Soul and then Disco, and instrumentals where the exception, and not the rule. Then Garage House already displayed its origins in its name, the combination of the music played in both New York’s Paradise Garage and Chicago‘s Warehouse. But after its heyday in the first half of the 90s, Garage House’s popularity was gradually declining. The clubs got bigger, and the sounds followed suit. The songs, however, seemed to get weaker in the process, and eventually a good tune became the exception. It might be a bit simplistic to argue that it is much easier to produce a good track than a good song, but comparatively there are not many artists left even trying. I am publishing an ongoing chronological series of mixes consisting of personal Vocal House favourites from the past until the present, and I picked a few overlooked gems for this guide.
Dance Advisory Commission – Free Your Mind (Yesterday’s Mix) (12th Avenue Records 1991)
The sole release on this imprint operated by Ben “Cozmo D” Cenac. Produced by David Anthony, who revived this track for a release on Emotive the following year. But the original record has the better versions. Eternal self-liberation on the floor imperatives, carried by a subtle Hip House aftermath breakbeat, which is just effortlessly swinging.
Swing Out Sister – Notgonnachange (Mix Of Drama) (Fontana 1992)
The Def Mix productions cannot be overestimated in Garage House history. 1992 was probably the year that saw more Vocal led House releases than any other year, as the Majors employed an increasing number of club DJs and producers to sprinkle some nocturnal stardust and dancefloor credentials on their chart bound artists. And so you have the most consistent remixer of the genre, Frankie Knuckles, turning UK Blue-Eyed Soulsters into a showstopping symphony of baroque proportions. His way of arranging pianos and strings into lush elegance is really distinct. It is also totally timeless.
Darryl D’Bonneau – Say You’re Gonna Stay (New Generation 1992)
The original masterpiece, hidden on a mini-compilation by a label supposedly affiliated with New Generation, the home of most of the weird and wonderful Larry P. Rauson productions. The track had a second life on Jellybean in 1995, albeit in way less intense versions. The interaction of main and background vocals here is pure perfection, the vocal performance is anyway. The song is an eight minute plea for forgiveness that is beyond par. I would not believe anybody telling me that she actually did not forgive him after hearing this.
K. London Posse Featuring Dawn Tallman – Caught In Luv (Rhythm Mix Vocal) (K4B Records 1994)
From 1993 on Garage House was played to increasingly bigger crowds, and the sweet melodies of former years were now often replaced by a Gospel led urgency, and heavier sounds. Producers like Masters At Work, Mood II Swing or Louie “Balo” Guzman showed the way, and many producers followed. Including Kingsley O., who released a string of high quality records on his K4B label that paired Diva plus team delivery with considerably twisted dubs. Buying double copies to combine both to best effect became mandatory.
Loveland – Hope (Never Give Up) (Junior’s Factory Vocal) (Eastern Bloc Records 1994)
NYC’s Sound Factory was the temple of the new booming Garage House sound, and Junior Vasquez was its adamant high priest. His rules and requirements for his floor are exemplified by this remix, one of many he did in those years. On this occasion riding on the ever reliable Robin S template developed by Sweden’s Finest remix team Swemix/Stonebridge, but adding those tribal rhythms, those rave stabbing chords and particularly introducing that rollercoaster structure that was diminished to one or two drops in recent years. The vocals do not serve not much more purpose than barely holding it all together, but they are still needed.
Brothers’ Vibe Featuring Teddy McClennan – Can U Feel It (Vocal) (Jersey Underground 1996)
The Rodriguez brothers paying their dues to Larry Heard’s eternal classic of a very similar name. It may lack its puzzling blissful emotionality, but it manages to catch up as deep, dark and dubbed out companion and it kicks you mesmerizingly, with your eyes closed, into realms you were probably not yet ready to enter. And you do not even care if you ever get out again.
Urban Soul – What Do I Gotta Do (Eric Kupper Club Mix) (King Street Sounds 1997)
Roland Clark was an early voice of the New Jersey sound back to the very early 90s, his shattered falsetto perfectly accompanied by the dramatic melancholia of his productions. Eric Kupper, man of many a thousand beautiful moments in House Music history, expectedly manages to add further bittersweet intensity to the equation, and a direct route to wailing with the best of them. If you think that House most songs are superficial and one-dimensional, you might just listen to the wrong ones.
The Klub Family – When I Fall In Love (Main Vocal Mix) (Funky People 1998)
There cannot be enough praise for the contributions of Blaze to the canon of songs in House music. Few were as committed to the tradition of Soul within the genre, and few could update said tradition with a sound so distinctively their own. Thus they were an exception when House came into being and they remained an exception for the years to come. Sometime inbetween, they helped to pave the way to the more spiritual and conscious sound celebrated at NYC clubs such as The Shelter and Body & Soul, and then they ruled it. Never ever write them off.
After a productive but rather short period on DJ International in the early 90s, Craig S. Loftis reappeared with this stunning record (the Blaze inspired “You Are All I Need” from one year later is also well worth tracking down). At that time Joe Smooth had vanished from my radar as well, but even if they had only done this one tune, I would be forever grateful. The way this track maintains a floating excellence over such a monolithic funked up groove is just incredible. And then comes the dub version, and you better watch out.
Big Moses – Deep Inside (Vocal) (Big Moe Records 2004)
Moise Laporte is best known for his sublime “Brighter Days” from 1996, but I cannot recommend this record enough either. I really despise a lot of “Soulful Garage” for its bland Pseudo-Jazz drenched noodlings but here all wrong musicianship temptations are kept in check for a well-balanced sophisticated groover straight for the Modern Soul floor. May the girls and boys keep on swinging, and may the faith be kept.
In discussion with Aiden d’Araujo on “Rhythm Zone Vol. 1” (1989).
You chose the cassette compilation “Rhythm Zone Vol. 1“. A format that in the 80s was probably still more common for discovering new music than its according CD counterparts. Were you taping radio at a young age, and was this your first foray into purchasing what already had caught your interest?
Yeah taping radio shows was a ritual when I was a kid – got that off my Mum who would tape mixes religiously. In the early nineties around ’92/’93 we had a studio in the loft with loads of gear like Junos and Rolands. The two guys who had the studio (you may have heard one of them under his Deadly Avenger alias who released the ‘Deep Red’ LP and now scores Hollywood films) lodged with us and I remember like it was just yesterday all the trippy, ambient electronica comin’ outta the studio – I would say reminiscent of acts like the Future Sound Of London. No doubt this influenced my Mum and she amassed a series of tapes that had early electronic auteurs on then such as Pete Namlook, Move D and Biosphere (she’s still got ’em!) whose nocturnal opus ‘Novelty Waves’ never fails to transport me straight to my childhood – you remember that iconic Levi’s advert featuring the steam train with that track on it right? Anyway, all these deep as the ocean odysseys would be the soundtrack to when I went to sleep. Warp’s ‘Artificial Intellgience’ comp was another fave, and I’d always be messin’ around with the FM dial to try scope out some more otherworldly obscurities…
Another interesting development was one of my Mum’s mates who when not spraying murals (he was and still is a revered graffitti artist who very kindly sprayed the House Hunting mural for me) would host shows on Birmingham-based pirate radio station Mix FM which he would sometimes transmit from our attic. This would be my introduction to Hip Hop – whether the Britcore of Gunshot and London Posse, West Coast flavour of Snoop Dogg and Souls Of Mischief or the politically-charged Public Enemy and ghetto rap of Biggie and Wu-Tang. GZA’s ‘Liquid Swords’ and Souls Of Mischief’s ’93 Til Infinity’ always on rotation must have proper wore those tapes out on my Walkman. As well as Hip Hop on Mix FM there would be some Soul, Funk, Disco, Electro and House – which when you’re 8 years old listening to all this was a pure mind trip…
So I didn’t really need to buy tapes as there were so many avenues where I was exposed to it. Another influence was my Dad who was split from my Mum so I would stay at his on weekends 10 mile up the road in Leicester. He was in a band that covered a lot of Rock and Blues classics who were a bit of a hit in the mid-nineties with loads of bookings all over The Midlands. Anyway Leicester has a big Afro-Caribbean community and every year hosts the Leicester carnival (second only to Notting Hill in size and scope) with Aba-Shanti representing so Dub and Reggae was also the sound of my Dad’s household – he loves all the Rhythm & Sound albums I’ve got him!
Did you try several compilations and this was the one you liked best, or was this the only one at first, and by coincidence it was also the best choice to get introduced to the US import dance music styles it showcased?
This was the first I bought and I remember clocking the naff early 90s trippy artwork complete with the tag line “A galaxy of imports for under a fiver”. It was a quid so had to be copped – I thought it may be like the deep trips on my Mum’s armada of ambient tapes. It was pure coincidence that the first one I got was the best introduction to Chicago House, Detroit Techno and New York Garage. Not long after I bought ‘The Rave Gener8tor II’ tape where again the cover art enticed me and had some choice cuts on it like the Underground Resistance remix of ‘The Colour Of Love’ by The Reese Project and some Murk flavour via Liberty City’s ‘Some Lovin’. There were only a few decent tracks on this one though as was on a more hardcore tip which I weren’t feelin’ as much. Always went back to ‘Rhythm Zone Vol. 1′. Read the rest of this entry »
The early days of House Music in Chicago were dominated by enthusiastic young producers who processed what they heard being played by club DJs like Ron Hardy and Frankie Knuckles and radio DJs as the Hot Mix 5, a raw and highly functional take on the American Disco heritage and European electronic counterparts, its sound determined by limited means to afford musical equipment. There were many records released that had enough brilliant ideas to last to this day, but for its originators it might have been sufficient to have their tracks played by said DJs, and however addictive their rhythms and wild piano chords were, they also seemed not to aim too high in terms of traditional musicianship. Thus from very early on the music of Larry Heard stood out. He was a real musician, with credentials as a professional drummer and keyboard player, and he introduced a level of artistry to the scene that in comparison seemed to be underdeveloped until then. And from the start his music reflected his personality. It was deep, introvert, even melancholic. It did not contain the usual dancefloor imperatives, but it was still very danceable. But club functionality did not appear to be his top priority. Nevertheless all the records he released under different guises from the mid to late 80s became legendary classics, and many more records he released afterwards became legendary classics as well.
Consequently Larry Heard will forever remain one of the most revered artists in the history of House music, yet it always seemed as if he felt his career did not unfold as he hoped it would. He probably shared the same desire to become famous, just like the rest of the Windy City pioneers, but neither he nor his music were extrovert enough to fit the necessary schemes. And this both applied to his most noted alias Mr. Fingers, and Fingers Inc., the group he formed with Robert Owens and Ron Wilson. Mr. Fingers was reserved for his very own interpretations of the House groove, and he created one eternal blueprint after another in the process, impressively showing how deep and pure electronic music could be. Fingers Inc. on the other hand was clearly conveyed to work as a group, in the traditional sense of any other R&B group of those years, only with the sound of House instead of R&B. Just take a look at the pictures of the group on the sleeve, matching sweaters and confident poses, with female limbs wrapped around like an outtake from an Ohio Players artwork. The charts were to be climbed, the sooner and higher the better. But despite reassuring sales in the club scene they did not climb the charts as intended. It is significant that both the albums „Ammnesia“ by Mr. Fingers and „Another Side“ were released on the Jack Trax label from the UK, an imprint specializing on importing landmark Chicago House releases to the European market. Both albums combined tracks previously released on local Chicago House labels like Trax and DJ International with new material. Both albums were released in 1988, the year when a rising interest in the new dance sounds from across the pond turned into the Acid House movement that would change the UK and continental club scenes substantially. And both albums are not regarded as a quick compilation to cash in on a then current hype, they are regarded as peerless masterpieces. Albums that really work as albums, from start to finish, all killer no filler. They are still ultimate references that club music can work perfectly in the format, and whoever is failing is just not trying hard enough. So much for Larry Heard’s talents, you cannot really overestimate them. Read the rest of this entry »
These mixes are an admittedly self-indulgent excursion that is a very personal sentimental journey. Going back, way back, back into time etc. A time where I was over twenty years younger, the early 90’s. The music you are about to hear is what we listened to at friends’ places before hitting the club. Every weekend we were dead certain that tonight will be THE night, even better than THE night the weekend before. We were young, handsome, carefree and everything that mattered was imminent. We knew there were hours of dancing to the most wonderful music lying ahead, and we actually could not really wait. In those days the club night began timely, and it had an end. We did not even think of being fashionably late, because there could have been so much we could have missed out on. But still, there was some time left. So beers open, cigs lit, talks, laughter, scheduling phone calls, dressing up and of course, the music. The music had to be perfect. But the music also had to be different to what we would dance to later on. We are not talking about music that should not distract, quite the opposite. It should be involving, fuelling our anticipation, but not exhausting it. Of course sometimes were were out buying the latest records earlier on, and we were playing them to each other. But sooner or later the dominant sound of getting ready was mellow, slick, lush, warm, elegant, fluid, flowing, smooth, soothing, emotional, DEEP.
It was the sound pioneered by in Chicago by artists like Larry Heard and Marshall Jefferson and many others, then developed further in New York by artists like Wayne Gardiner, Bobby Konders, the Burrell Brothers and also many others. Do not mistake their music as being designed for home listening purposes. The DJs would use them, too. As a gentle introduction, or as a moment of regeneration during peak time, or as the best possible way to ease the crowd out again in the early morning, so that not a single glorious moment of what just happened was tainted by something less. A lot of these tracks had enough kicks to have you working at any time, but they also seemed to be created for special moments, closed eyes, embraces, disbelief evoked by sheer beauty.
The musical programming of that era was quite different to today. It was not steadily going up and up, it was going up and down. There were detours, breaks, constant pace shifts, even pauses. Surprises welcome. A single style was not mandatory. Changes were expected, and fulfilled, at best unexpectedly. There was a flow, but it was not built-in, it had to be achieved.
A lot of these tracks have tags like Ambient or Jazz in their titles and credits, but they did not really try to be either. The artists involved liked to display their musicianship, and their ability to establish a mood and an atmosphere. They knew how to write a melody, they knew how to arrange their layers and instruments, they were determined to sound as good as their means would allow.
One reason why I wanted to record these mixes is that I sometimes miss club music artists being musicians. And music oblivious to floor imperatives and mere functionalism. The other reason is that I was interested how these tracks would sound or even hold up if you did not just inject this feeling inbetween something else, but you pull it through, for HOURS. Would it be too much? You decide.
I’d like to dedicate this to the Front Kids, wherever you may roam. You rule.
Es ist bezeichnend, dass Larry Heard von den zahlreichen Plagiatsvorwürfen ausgespart blieb, mit denen sich die Chicago House-Pioniere nach den ersten Erfolgen gegenseitig überhäuften. Seine Musik war und blieb einzigartig. Es war offensichtlich, dass hier kein DJ mit schnellem Enthusiasmus Tracks zusammensetzte, die möglichst nächstes Wochenende das Warehouse oder die Music Box befeuern sollten. Hier hatte jemand eine Vision, die über die hektische Betriebsamkeit und die Effizienzprioritäten der Gründertage von House weit hinausging. Und es ist ebenso bezeichnend, dass dieses Album nur eine Zusammenstellung von vorher auf Singles veröffentlichten Tracks ist, und trotzdem ein ewiger Meilenstein geblieben ist, der bis heute als endgültige Referenz fortschwingt. Die fragile und reine Schönheit von Deep House-Prototypen wie „Can You Feel It“ und „Beyond The Stars“ ist nie wieder erreicht worden, und die psychedelische Rhythmik von „Washing Machine“oder „The Juice“ war auch schon dort, wo die anstehenden Wellen in Detroit, Chicago und überall sonst auf der Welt noch hinrollen würden. Blaupausen-Alert!
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