All those months ago, you could have found these songs, and more, on the internet. If you didn't have, y'know, things to be getting on with.
"Glasshead", by Four Tet. We start proceedings with two tracks by the estimable Four Tet, the first old, the second new. The old one, "Glasshead", was, it seems, one of the first of his recordings to be commercially released, four years before "Rounds", the record that changed many lives (mine included). It is educational (and, in its own way, thrilling) to go back: dude clearly knew where he was headed.
"Opus (Four Tet Remix)", by Eric Prydz. In more recent times Four Tet has been casting an eye on what has been happening on the dance floor. Hence his keenness to do this remix. And yet it still manages to sound like "Rounds". (Also: what happens between 2'10" and 7'50" is, not to put too fine a point on it, astounding.)
"Space Jam", by Kornel Kovacs. This would not sound out of place as one of those slightly left-field tracks that from time to time land the closing spot on Kompakt's "Total" compilations.
"ABBA 002", by Axel Boman. We have an 18-year-old at our house who likes to create the impression that he wants nothing to do with ABBA. (Curiously, I was once that exact same 18-year-old.) Perhaps, though, when a song of theirs is as seamlessly woven into the fabric of a track as is the case here, we can sneak something through his defences. Let's find out, shall we?
"My Way Home", by Obas Nenor. Samples one of Gil Scott-Heron's finest moments. And lives to tell the tale.
"Good Times", by The Persuasions. Yes, you have heard this somewhere before.
"She Takes Me There", by Promised Land Sound. On Paradise of Bachelors, the 21st century's mark of quality.
"Streap Tease In The Stars (The Way I Do)", by Sirarcusa. Somebody has been through cratedigger hell to bring you this song. Respect to them. It's songs like this are why I do what I do. (Is that even a sentence?) Warning: contains flute.
"Accadde A Bali", by Arawak. Did I just say "Warning: contains flute"? Consider yourself warned. (Bonus: album cover of the month.)
"Wishing On A Star", by Fresh 4. Featuring the drum loop that launched a thousand Hydroplane songs. Produced by Smith & (it goes without saying) Mighty. (This is the best version I could find on the Tube. The one I was listening to was the 12" version. For those who are interested, I have for the time being deposited it in the Dropbox.)
"Zion Pathway", by I Kong. Choice reggae "side" from 1977, with a distinct "Onward Christian Soldiers" vibe. (I know, right?) Fun fact: I Kong also worked under what is perhaps the best alias ever, "Ricky Storm".
"Night", by Joel Graham. When I moved to Melbourne, in 1982, I had no idea that a person, any person, could actually create music, as opposed to (as I did) absorb music that other people had made. (In all honesty, I'm still not sure how people do it.) I was lucky enough to get to know people who knew people who made music that sounded not unlike this. To me, they were like gods. This song was made in 1982. (In San Francisco.) I'm sure I would have liked it had I heard it then. I like it now. Around the 7:20 mark things start to get particularly interesting. From the label that also brought you Gigi Masin, whose name you have seen in this column on more than one occasion. More power to them.