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.