After two weekends away, the backlog has become immense, so we present a whopping FOUR new episodes for the spooky season!
Episode 717 features Medicine, Fennesz, Papa M, Earthen Sea, Nero, memotone, Karate, ØKSE, Otis Gayle, more eaze, Jon Mueller, and Lauren Auder + Wendy & Lisa.
Episode 718 has The Legendary Pink Dots, Throbbing Gristle, Von Spar / Eiko Ishibashi / Joe Talia / Tatsuhisa Yamamoto, Ladytron, Cate Brooks, Bill Callahan, Jill Fraser, Angelo Harmsworth, Laibach, and Mike Cooper.
Episode 719 music by Angel Bat Dawid, Philip Jeck, A.M. Blue, KMRU, Songs: Ohia, Craven Faults, tashi dorji, Black Rain, The Ghostwriters, Windy & Carl.
Episode 720 brings you tunes from Lewis Spybey, Jules Reidy, Mogwai, Surya Botofasina, Patrick Cowley, Anthony Moore, Innocence Mission, Matt Elliott, Rodan, and Sorrow.
Photo of a Halloween scene in Ogunquit by DJ Jon.
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Though nowhere near as willfully experimental as some of hisearlier releases, Resilience promises to be an album that will find aprominent place in Kid 606’s body of work as his most meditative and(egads!) mature.
When I listen to Kid 606, I look forward to having my mind melted. Iexpect schizoid rhythms, caustic noise, and unrelenting beats to kickmy ass around my room and to make me dance like a marionette. And forthe most part, that’s just what Kid 606 has done. Over the course ofseven years he’s perfected his mish-mash agro style, which placed apremium on aggression, noisy experimentation, and spliced samples. SoResilience was a total sucker punch for me, which is probably just howthe Kid intended it to be. Simplicity is his M.O. on this release, andthe songs barely come close to touching upon his schizophrenic mash-upsof previous releases. “Done With the Scene” opens the album and slowlybuilds upon a series of panning synthesizer samples. The rhythm, thoughsedate, still provides enough kick to prevent the song from languishingand does a good job of not interrupting the washes of synthesizer aboveit. This leads right into “Spanish Song,” with its near disco readypercussion and random vocal samples, sounds like a club jam slowed downfor the benefit of the weary. After the high standards set by thesesongs, the album splits itself between material that is interesting andwell executed and material that is not. An example of the latter can befound on “Phoenix Riddim” which abuses its reggae guitar sample andquickly wears out its welcome. Similarly, “Sugarcoated” is stretchedfar to thin, so that by the time it ends I had forgotten what had madethe track appealing in the first place. But while there are severalless then stellar moments on Resilience, they are balanced out bytracks like “Xmas Funk,” where Kid 606 varies the tempo and builds upona variety of loops rather then just one. Elsewhere, there is“Cascadia,” with its synthesizer squelches and distant rhythm track.While the song is far from anything Kid 606 has attempted before, itnonetheless can rank up alongside with some of his finest work. Thoughseveral of the songs on have been culled from earlier releases it wouldbe unfair to label this a rarities or singles collection. Ultimately,Resilience is a record that allows Kid 606 to spread himself into otherstyles.
On his first solo release, Tamburo’smastery of the guitar is on clear display. The five tracks arebeautifully resigned compositions which explore not just the musicalpossibilities of the acoustic guitar, but also its ability to—pardonthe cliché—speak to the soul.
While only one song here manages tocomplete its journey in less than ten minutes, the rest meander througha variety of well-executed ideas that make their epic lengths more of ablessing then a curse. “Adam’s Fruit Temptation” begins with fairlyconventional guitar picking before being overtaken by a wash ofelectronic effects. It begins its next section with a slightly menacingbanjo that is carried by an undercurrent of electronic washes and organdrones. An up-tempo guitar jig follows, with its roots firmly plantedin the tradition of Appalachian folk. As it settles into a repeatedmelodic figure, an organ slowly swells up and provides backing.“Something About Dangerous Women” is a slow, sinister work thatgradually builds steam over a series of harmonic figures, beforefalling into minor key picking. The track is far sparser then “Adam’sFruit Temptation” and in addition to his six string acoustic, Tamburodeploys a droning ebow here to back him up at various points. As hispicking gradually intensifies, Tamburo throws in more notes to heightenthe sense of unease. For other players, this could have proved to be acostly mistake, but Tamburo knows exactly where to cut it. Tamburofollows the breathlessness of “Dangerous Women” with “My Time MachineMoves Slower Without You,” which cascades upon a wash of electricguitar effects. The song hues closer to the shoegazer haze of My BloodyValentine than the rest of the album, but is a fitting and beautifulcoda, with a spine tingling guitar part that appears throughout. Thoughit would be tempting to lump Mike Tamburo’s work with what is often(and erroneously) dubbed “freak folk,” the fact is that his music isfar more rooted in the traditions of American folk and blues to warrantsuch a label. Ultimately, the album’s success is rooted in bothTamburo’s masterful playing and his ability to not be pinned down by aparticular style or sound. Beating of the Rewound Son is a beautifulalbum that is just as comfortable exploring sun-drenched houses in thecountry as it is empty warehouses sitting along a polluted river, andit is the discoveries you can find here that which makes the album sorewarding.
Likea sweet and sour sauce that's been haphazardly whipped together, KFC Coremanages to balance its hard, aggro side with its silly, playful side,despite the lack of effort that seems to have gone into some of theconstruction.
This is aparty record built principally on the joke that its author and hisfriends love KFC and are willing to write songs about it. Sure, it's astupid premise, but DJ Scotch Egg isn't aiming for anything highconcept or deeply moving here. The tracks are all built around abackbone of skipping gabber beats and distorted noise and screamingmixed with video game melodies and 8-bit synth sounds, and while thecombination doesn't immediately sound inviting on paper—it works. What results is a fun, bouncy record that moves quicklybetween songs and interludes and manages tap into just the right amountof absurd energy to be worth listening to again and again. There aresome self-indulgent moments that take the KFC joke a little too far(like the hidden track at the end of the record that is a severalminute long conversation about KFC and Hare Krishnas and so on), butfor the most part even the forced theme and the juvenile humor don'tcome off as too overbearing. I've already picked out several tracksfrom this record to throw into my own DJ sets, which is certainly asign that DJ Scotch Egg has gotten something right here. I imagine thata crate full of records like this one that are fun but bordering ondisposable would get old really quickly, and to the gabber andspeedcore/breakcore aficionados out there, all of this may be old news,but I found KFC Core to be the perfect antidote to hardelectronic music that takes itself too seriously. There's a time forthat, but there's a time for this too, and right now I'm bouncing to aremix of the Tetris theme and I can't help but smile.
This release compiles various singles, covers,and odds and ends from the Bloomington-based post-hardcore group. Secretly Canadian
Though they would alter their name for each variation on the group(going from The Panoply Academy Glee Club to Corps of Engineers toLegionnaires), their sound remained essentially intact: spiralingsong-structures, angular hooks, and a sense of stylistic ADD. Presentedin reverse chronological order, Everything Here Was Built to Breakwillbe a welcome addition to any fan of the band. “Nom de Plume” opensthings up, slowly swelling to a crescendo of pounded piano, clean toneguitar picking, and trembling vocals while “Comfort,”matches prog-metal guitar chords with near operatic singing,interspersed with harsh post-punk scratches. These two previouslyunreleased songs showcase what the group was best at:post-hardcore styleguitar interplay and intricate drumming with a foot solidly grounded inpost-rock dynamics. Taken with another unreleased track, “Please Stray/Look Us in the Eyes,” (all three were intended to run together in alive setting) it seems clear that The Panoply Academy’s best attributeswere their ability to take seemingly disparate strains and make themmatch as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Working it’sway further into the past; the compilation reveals the beginnings ofThe Panoply Academy to be far more rooted in the bratty energy ofNation of Ulysses and Cap‘n Jazz then the more complex sound theywould pursue on their later recordings. “Remedial Symmetry” featuresmetronome precise drumming and a brain damaged seesaw guitar riff thatpropels the song ahead. These songs are great in their own right, butwhen they follow more polished efforts from the compilations firsthalf, it has a negative effect of making them seem inferior, ratherthen the basis for what was to come. Perhaps the most interestingaddition on Everything Here Built Was Built to Break is theinclusion of several covers the band recorded throughout their career.Their version of Nick Drake’s “Harvest Breed” manages to avoid a roteimitation by imbuing the song with a cold, electro heart. Meanwhile,their cover of Supertramp’s “Dreamer/ Crime of the Century” ishysterical, complete with gung-ho operatic vocals and anenthusiastically bashed piano solo. Most surprising though is theirtreatment of Country Joe and the Fish’s “I Feel Like I’m Fixing to DieRag” from Exotic Fever’s Don’t Know When I’ll Be Back Again Vietnam vetbenefit. The band strips the song of it’s jaunty country sound andinstead turns it into a slow funeral dirge while managing to keep allof the dark humor of the original intact. Secretly Canadian has done agreat service for fans who would be unlikely to find any of these songselsewhere. But for the rest of us who weren’t there sweating along tothem in a basement during their various tours of the US, it might beadvisable to start with the proper albums first, before seeking thisout.
Anyone who has seen 24 Hour Party People will probably remember severalscenes involving A Certain Ratio. At various points they get smearedwith sunless tanner, are told to dress like boy scouts, and play theinaugural show at Tony Wilson's towering pipedream to self-indulgence,the Hacienda, to an empty house.
The message that the film seems conveys is clear: A Certain Ratio werean amusing footnote in the story of Factory Records. Ignored as theirpeers in Joy Division and New Order gained popularity and influence,and all but forgotten by the time groups like the Happy Mondays camealong, it’s probably a safe bet to say that the majority of those whosaw 24 Hour Party People had no idea who A Certain Ratio were.This is a damn shame, as one listen to any of A Certain Ratio’s albumsfrom 1979 to about 1983 (when the group began to splinter apart) showsthat they were far ahead of the curve. 1980’s half four-track demos,half live cuts (from their tour with Talking Heads) The Graveyard andthe Ballroom pretty much predicts the recent dance-punk explosion, withthe band laying into precise, skittering funk inflected punk. By thetime of 1982’s I’d Like to See You Again, the band had tradedin the thin guitars and anxious vocals of Simon Topping for somethingfar more lush and organic. To say I was shocked at the difference insound and approach between The Graveyard and the Ballroom and I’d Like to See You Againwould be an understatement. Gone were the pent up vocals, wiry guitarsand urgent drumming, in their place were synthesizers, vocoders, andbig, fat bass lines. A Certain Ratio had always been influenced byAmerican funk and disco, but here that influence became more pronouncedthen ever. Opener “Touch” is perhaps the slickest, catchiest bit ofR&B that Parliament never recorded. “Hot Knights” features aswinging beat with some squishy analog synth to keep it buoyed, withsome fun nonsensical lyrics thrown in for good measure. Elsewhere,there are interesting experiments with vocoders, such as on thegraceful disco of “I’d Like to See You Again” and the more driving“Show Case.” The highlight though is “Axis,” which features some trulyjaw dropping bass work from Jeremy Kerr and grooves languidly on afoundation of tightly syncopated beats and well placed keyboard riffs.The song manages to incorporate not just the bands love of funk andR&B, but also reveals the influence of New York’s early 80selectro-dance scene, something the band had been listening toobsessively at the time. In addition to the eight original tracks, LTMhas also included five bonus tracks. While the original songs on I’dLike to See You Again were born mostly out of the bands fascinationwith American R&B, these five tracks display the growing influenceof Latin jazz (“Tumba Rhumba”), house music (“Knife Slits Water”), andthe cut and paste attitude of hip-hop (a remix of I’d Like to See YouAgain’s “Guess Who”). Though they don’t necessarily fit in with theoverall flow of the album, they nevertheless showcase the band’sinventive chops and strong sense of ensemble playing. Those who came toknow A Certain Ratio from their earlier, more punk influenced workmight be caught off guard or even put off by the songs here. Icertainly was. But it would be unfair to not to give this release theattention it deserves. While not as immediate or raw as anything foundon The Graveyard and the Ballroom, the songs on I’d Like to See You Again exhibit a strong sense of sophistication and stylistic development.
From this debut’s title, the simple typeface and ‘take me as Iam’ earthy tones of the artwork a pretty good picture can be drawn ofwhat Richard Dawson is all about; simplicity. Dawson manages to mergethe territories of traditional English music, Nick Drake miserablismsand a tipsy Daniel Johnston into an Autumn Folk collection of songsabout everyday life.
More often than not the lyrics stick to undemanding rhymes aboutdaily existence with sundry peculiar tales and close to the bonedomestic stories from childhood thrown into the mix. Sounding a gooddeal wearier than his 23 years Dawson sounds like he’slooking back over a lifetime of memories.
Playingup some diverse vocal styles (and sounding not unlike Adem at points)he manages to keep the whole affair interesting dipping between croakygrowls, wavering full voiced singing and soft whispered lullaby tones.There’s even a touch of Tom Waits rumble on the broom handle bassjazziness of “Jane” and his Swordfishtrombonesnarratives on “Between the long Grass”. Recorded, again simply, in hisbedroom the sound is surprisingly warm, unmuddied and clear of thebedlam that is hinted at on the album’s insert. But when harmonica andthin servings of slide guitar appear on “I Have Walked for Many Days”its obvious that as charming and strong as Dawson’s performances are,it definitely helps when he fleshes those melodies out with otherinstrumentation than his acoustic and spots of percussion.
Nowadays, most people would associate the term "electronic music" withbedroom musicians and beardos tweaking samplers and laptops; runningsoftware packed with a ridiculous amount of synth pads and beats in avirtual studio environment. It's easy to overlook the fact that one ofthe more common elements in music from the latter half of the twentiethcentury, the electric guitar, was one of the earliest "electronic"instruments.
Moving forward with that theory, the electric amplification of justabout any instrument would then be found to be performing electronicmusic. It's the subsequent treatments, compositions, orchestrations andarrangements that splinter the musics into their various cultures andclassifications. Hailing from Kinshasa, the capital city of theDemocratic Republic of Congo, Konono No1 are a musical and dancecollective who have taken somewhat of a reverse concept with theamplification of their likembes (traditional African thumb pianos) tocreate a unique sound. Formed 25 years ago by likembevirtuoso, Mingiedi, Konono No1 have changed the traditional soundassociated with the thumb piano in amplifying it with homemademicrophones and a sound system built using old car parts. Coupled withpots and pans percussion playing upbeat, traditional African rhythmsheld together with a steady pulse, the unexpected yet distinctdistorted tones of the various pitches of likembes are riffed by theirplayers as if they were rock guitarists: edgy and heavy-handed with abit of flash. Throw in some call and response chants and you've gothigh life in overdrive. Although tracks such as the opener "LufualaNdonga," "Masikulu," and "Ungudi Wele Wele" are fairly similar inarrangement, the various bass likembe patterns give each track adifferent feel with locked-in grooves that have the same hypnoticeffect of a great dub recording, despite the brisk tempo. Therepetitive motif of "Kule Kule" supports several polyrhythmic linesthat displace and resolve themselves in the spirit of such moderncomposers as Steve Reich. Even though a few of the same motifs cumriffs appear in multiple compositions on Congotronics,the likembe sounds and performances don't detract from their usage.These guys could play "Chopsticks" for a full seven minutes and stillmake it totally hip! I can only hope that Konono No1 someday make it toNorth America (oh, you lucky Europeans that got to see 'em withTortoise). I would imagine that the mix of visuals from the traditionaldancers and sounds from the musicians is the type of thing that mindsare blown by.
While Sleeping People are a talented group, with a secret weapon in theacrobatic drumming of Brandon Reif, the mathematical riffage and roughand tumble timekeeping strikes me as ho-hum and fairly bland. Theintricate fingerprints of Don Caballero, King Crimson, and any numberof duel guitar bands that recorded for Dischord throughout the 1990s areon clear display here. Temporary Residence Limited
In essence, this is just post-punk posturing,with the guitars fighting a noisy battle for attention. “Blue Fly GreenFly” startsthings off on a good note, sounding like a wordless Jawbox b-side.Here, guitarists Kasey Boekholt and Joileah Maddock play off of oneanother nicely, providing busy lines that manage to not suffocate therest of the song. As is the case with most of these tracks, BrandonRaif’s intricate drumming is front and center, providing the songs witha strong anchor from which to build on. But while the majority of thesesongs are expertly played, they also feel rote. Songs like “Fripp forGirls” and “Johnny Depp” rattles off a thousand finger-tapped andhammered-on riffs, creating a stuttering, awkward series of melodies.The random guitar violence is kept in check throughout by the solidrhythm section, but this is hardly enough to keep my attention for afull six minutes. To be perfectly honest, Sleeping People are not doinganything beyond paying their respects to Shudder to Think, DonCaballero, and Oxes. And therein lays the problem with Sleeping People.While other instrumental rock bands use their instrumentation createbreathtaking soundscapes and works of high drama (e.g. Explosions inthe Sky, Do Make Say Think, etc), Sleeping People’s eponymous debutjust sounds like the semi-talented band down the hall that are stilllooking for a singer.
I’ve never really understood the glam-rock tag that Bobby Conn gotsidled with in his solo work. Sure, the dude and his band, the GlassGypsies, dress in sequins and gold lame stage outfits, all but invitingcomparison to the coke addled heyday of Ziggy Stardust. Thrill Jockey
I suppose his albums invited this tag as well, as they always seemedpacked to the gills with ostentatious additions such as strings andhorns sections. In a live setting though (well, ok, “live in front of astudio audience.”), these songs take on a grimy sheen, and, simply put,kick ass. On “Angels,” the band throws down a furious groove, with Connnearly besting Ian Svenonius’ Prince impression. For anyone who stillmaintains that Conn and the Glass Gypsies are nothing more thenglam-rock opportunists, the kiss off comes on the next track, “We Comein Peace.” It’s a righteous protest anthem that finds Conn spouting offinspired couplets like “We are your friends, we come in peace, webrought our guns to set you free” and sounds a lot like the searingprotest rock that Ted Leo and the Pharmacists have been performinglately. The opening wah-wah guitar freak out of “Cashing Objections”whispers dirty come-ons in my ear, drawing me in, while the rest of thesong is nailed down by the excellent interplay of lead-guitarist Sleddand violinist Monica BouBou. Overall, the stylistic diversity the banddisplays in the quasi-live setting here is impressive, as the bandjumps from burning rockers (“Style I Need”) to over-the-top arena fare(“White Bread”) to dirty funk jams (“Axis ’67 Part 2”). Throughout, thesongs feature incisive and often-humorous lyrics performed with Conn’sbreathless enthusiasm which skewer the current political and culturalclimate mercilessly. While a lot of people have already written offConn for a being crappy composite of mid-1970s music trends, they’d beill advised to ignore this release. Sure, in a studio, Conn’s eyes areoften bigger then his stomach, but on Live Classics Vol. 1 he and hisband are ferocious and terse, everything great rock and roll should be.
Et Sans latest release (and first) on Canadian label Alien 8 is analbum that finds the band pushing themselves in familiar yetchallenging directions. The four tracks here burst at the seams withideas and inventiveness, all while managing to remain uniquelyaccessible to those unfamiliar with their influences.
Though the Montreal quintet features members of such well establishedgroups like Le Fly Pan Am, Shalabi Effect, and A Silver Mt. Zion, thisis hardly a stepping stone for the band. Instead of falling backon those groups' varied approaches, Et Sans mines the realm of the late1960s and 1970s, touching on Suicide’s keyboard vamps, Kraut Rock,psychedelia, and baroque pop. The first track, “Lachose Nue Nue Nue Oul'Amoncellement Spectral du Mac,” begins with slowly percolating beats,with distant murmuring voices and washes of ambient static. The 18 plusminute centerpiece “Une Bouche Végétale, Des Creatures Soufflent desSécrétions du Tout Fout l” follows and immediately dispels the eeriecalm established by the last song. Over an unrelenting Farfisa,manipulated vocals, shrieking electronics, and pounding drum, the songreaches its noisy zenith until slowly fading out to just a groaningkeyboard and a drum and handclap providing the rhythm at about theseven minute mark. As the track progresses, it slowly begins to pick upthe pace, until it has regained the tempo it utilized in its firstsection. Whereas earlier the vocals were hidden behind a gauze ofelectronic manipulation, they are more prominent here, with the leadvoice intoning mantra like verses while backing vocals provide cheerful“bah, bah, bah’s.” The song in many ways resembles early New Yorkkeyboard noise mongers Suicide, but also draws comparison to Stereolabin its extended length, and sublime pop frenzy. “Made Moiselle Ogive,Un Tremblement Osseux Dans Lederriére” manages to match the intensityof the previous song through the usage of one percussive piano chordwhich provides the rhythm for much of the song. The delicate sense ofurgency is increased by more classical instrumentation, such as a harp,backing strings and hushed vocals, all of which infuses the song with abeautiful haunting quality. The final track is perhaps Et Sans mostaccessible. “Les Courbes Sanglantes Entendues de l'Organe Trop UraímentHalluciné” is built on Felix Morel’s capable drumming, which drives thesong over its 11 minute course through a panoply of keyboard, breathyvocals, and squirming electronics. While some may balk at their lengthand unwavering rhythm, they are really missing the point. Par NoussssTouss les Trous de Vos Crânes! is an album that manages to skillfullybalance Et Sans predilection for the experimental and the accessible,making for a challenging and infinitely rewarding listen.
Did you ever wonder where Grace Jones and Miss Kittin learned all their moves? Look no further than Gina X Performance's 1979 electro new-wave classic Nice Mover. This, along with their follow-up, X-Traordinaire, have been reissued by LTM and given the special LTM treatment with restored artwork and bonus tracks.
The album—and most especially its two highly influential club singles "Nice Mover" and "No G.D.M."—is ground zero for the combination of cold-wave electro, cocaine-fueled disco sleaze, dark cabaret and genderbending performance aesthetics that would come to dominate the Berlin and NYC scenes during the early 1980s, and then again in the late 1990s. The core of the band was vocalist and lyricist Gina Kikoine, fashionable art school dyke, and writer-producer-musician Zeus B. Held (of Kraut-proggers Birth Control), who met and formed Gina X Performance in Cologne, Germany. Their name was presumably meant to encapsulate the very strong visual performance aspect of their music, as well as the frequently provocative sexuality and transgenderism that was a fixation for the group. Gina's masculine vocals are wry and world-weary, retaining her native German accent, the perfect specimen of decadent, detached, unattainable Eurotrash. Her lyrics are more often than not about her ideals of androgynous beauty, her exhibitionistic streak and her desire to be a homosexual man rather than a lesbian. The lyrics of "No G.D.M." are a musical response to celebrated writer and "stately homo" Quentin Crisp, who frequently spoke of a "great dark man" who was utterly beyond his reach. Gina's vocals are campy, witty and hilarious, but they would be nothing without the slinky, pulsating disco-throb of Zeus, whose marriage of the NYC/Ze Records sound with that of the emerging German cold-wave and industrial scenes resulted in a breathless, minimalist electro sound that has oft been imitated, but never repeated. It's hard to imagine that anyone else in Germany (besides perhaps Nina Hagen, whom Zeus also produced) was doing anything this cool in 1979. "Nice Mover" is certainly my favorite non-Arthur Russell disco side of all time; i was included on Andrew Weatherall's Nine O'Clock Drop compilation, along with The Normal and 23 Skidoo, where it fit perfectly. Tigersushi tried to resuscitate Gina X Performance's reputation with the release of their compilation More G.D.M. a few years ago, but it's taken until now for someone to actually reissue this amazing album on CD. One shouldn't be surprised that LTM is responsible for making this happen, and like all of the label's releases, this reissue includes bonus remixes and rarities, as well as an extensive biography of the group. The only criticism I could possibly offer for the album is that several of the tracks use almost identical rhythm tracks, but with beats this addictive and sexy, that's not really a huge drawback. Listening to Nice Mover again I was amazed at just how much of Gina X Performance's act was "borrowed" by Grace Jones, and more recently by Miss Kittin. Nice Mover deserves to be heard, and it's great to see this influential dance classic restored to its rightful place. These songs have already started to pop up in celebrity DJ sets in NYC, London and Berlin clubs, hopefully displacing all the copyists for good.
And here is where it all started to go wrong. Nearly everything that made Nice Mover an unparalleled new-wave electro classic was inexplicably abandoned in favor of a decidedly more commercial, pop-oriented sound. It's really a very disappointing direction for the group to take, making this album largely inessential, and the next two Gina X albums (due out eventually on LTM), utterly unlistenable. Apparently, back in 1980 when X-Traordinaire was being recorded, producer Zeus B. Held had gotten hold of a new PPG synthesizer and a state-of-the-art sequencer, even working alongside the sequencer's inventor. This new reliance on fancy new technology unfortunately results in a very dated sound for the group's sophomore album, with a hyperactive production style overloaded with "funky" basslines, wokka-jawokka guitars and synthesized brass, snares and hi-hats. Where Nice Mover had a unique signature sound, X-Traordinaire sounds pretty much like everything else going on in European disco at the time. Gina's vocals are still in fine form, but they are uncomfortably shoehorned into tracks that require her to sing faster, more upbeat melodies, and it just doesn't work at all. The only songs that come even close to repeating the first album's successes are "Do It Yourself" and "Opposite Numbers," but they pale in comparison to the genius of a track like "Nice Mover." The opening track "Strip Tease" boasts a playfully provocative lyric, but the painfully white disco-funk sounds like it belongs on a Boney M B-side. "Nowhere Wolf" allegedly samples the howls of actual wolves recorded in the Russian Steppe, but they really shouldn't have gone to all that trouble, as the song itself is quite shitty. "Ciao Caruso" is an interesting experiment, a 10-minute track inspired by murdered Spanish poet Garcia Lorca, that also features samples of legendary opera singer Enrico Caruso, but the track is too cutesy and seriously wears out its welcome long before it ends. Again, LTM does a fine job with remastering, rare bonus tracks and packaging, but they simply can't rescue this album from its own miserable failures. Yet another sad entry in the encyclopedia of sophomore slumps.