If you think the club music of today has absolutely zip to say, Fabric 70 is compounding matters by barely offering you as much as a jack to obey. Mazi’s “Scene Shifter” musters a ‘just feel it’ for those feeling lost. That’s because the vibe circling is screaming volumes; gritty, hard shuffling grooves riding the Chicago expressway to Detroit and the new wave of techno, fresh out the box from the late ’80s and early ’90s.
Actually it’s not quite as old as that, despite French threesome Apollonia commendably reaching out to the back of their record bags. As they champion the upfront, the mood is of when the music had little ID —certainly without any offshoots or splinter factions — and was just recognized as what was coming out of the darkest of anti-discotheque areas.
Witihin these rules, Apollonia’s “Trinidad” bears the unmistakable bassline dive of Doug Lazy’s hip-house superpower “Let It Roll,” while the pendulously po-faced bass to Dyed’s sternly sexy remix of Daze Maxim is the essence of looking backwards to speed forwards. Little breakups of security, through glider synths on Nail’s “I’ve Been There” and the unusual occurrence of lavish strings from Funk E, are equivalent to a hit of house inhaler, with Mood II Swing’s jazzy street sway continuing concentration on core values. A mix that paints a thousand words in blue, white and red that need shouting from the rooftops.
File under: Louie Vega, Chris Carrier & Hector Moralez, Todd Terry
Master blasters dealing in funk phenomena, straight talking partiers Chris Carrier and Hector Moralez go for the dance floor with on-the-money maker bumps packing bassy stubble and deep filtered disco loops that are hard to defend against. With barely a glory-seeking or shape-holding riff in earshot, the pair’s Lotus position is purely about house beats running deep ruts into the ground while the shuffle and sharpness of hi-hats provides the incision, picking up a hitchhiker of cool, occasionally zingy funk that’s slipped in to keep tastebuds moist.
Taking a little time to get into its stride – the premise is supposedly a road trip through ’90s San Francisco, so the two are obviously gassing up at the get-go – it becomes a party that you can join at any time without needing to play catch up, such is the no gimmicks, just good times and honest endeavor the duo advertise. A long in the tooth taste for an almost throwback US house sound ain’t coming off soft or bland, making it deep house not found fading, with “Disco Remodel” and “Island Breeze” kicking sand in faces with skippy disco redux.
The funk of “Phillies Titan” and “Mystery Streets” keep up the good spirits as well as slickening the attitude of B-boys playing hard-ball, and aren’t cause for any self-indulging interruption. When “Rise of the People” takes center stage, it firms Carrier and Moralez’s status as true old-school junkies showing newbies how it’s done.
File under: Ming & FS,; The Sharp Boys, Armand van Helden