Dance

Rip It Up, Issue 200, 1 April 1994, Page 41

Dance

■■ fl lii i] nF: liiMt tn I Wl: n *■ wTTOP»FSwBHHI And an amazing thing it is too, this album from Germany’s Jam El Mar and Mark Stoffel, or at least most of it (there are two or three truly embarassing moments), matching the ghost of Kraftwerk with the soul of clubland, with almost an early Strictly Rhythm feel about it, albeit in a humourless Teutonic way. I especially like ‘Path of .Harmony’ or the Larry Levan tribute ‘Paradise Garage’. Essential stuff. . A real good trick this. First release the track with the vocal sample (last year’s monster ‘Deep Inside’ by Hardrive (aka the Masters at Work) so everyone goes looking for the obscure Salsoul track it came off, then toss out the new original a year later. But what a track. As ‘Somebody Else’s Guy’ was to 84, ‘Promised Land’ to 88 and ‘Are . You Gonna Be There’ was to 90, this is an anthem, especially in CJ Mackintosh’s vocal mix. Featuring the voice of Bobby Pruit, this deep bassy garage thang comes from Miami’s Murkman Ralph Falcon, on his label,'which also gave us last year’s single by the Fog, and this kind of continues where that left off. . . • • • ; IV Cd i frit) nil “ rS I Mi U I Although he must be in his seventies now, Tito Puente, the original Mambo King, sets fire to the first half of this wonderful tribal tune, actually the work of the Masters at Work. But its halfway through, when the music drops and Louie’s wife India wails, that I just go to pieces. The meaning of life. This record really is crap, but it’ll sell by the truckload, fill a million dancefloors and then be forgotten. Reminds me of ‘The Birdie Song’. With a title like that you really don’t expect anything too tender, but this single is sort of majestic in an ominous, old school techno way. Sounds like the music I hear when I play ‘Doom’ on the PC. The new heavy metal. - ■ ■ Um M > Ml ft>4ll <IK Wow! The guy who gave the world the immense ‘Liquid Bass’ EP last year has taken the whole thing one step further, this time sampling huge chunks of an old Loleatta Holloway Salsoul track called ‘Dreaming’. Epic,-joyous, with a mix for every occasion. From New Jersey, his first single ‘Holdin’ On’ (included here) was the garage/ soul anthem of 91. Three years later this proves it was no fluke - 3,000 people were turned away from a recent club gig in the UK because this guy was to sing three songs from this album.Destined to be the definitive purist soulboy long player of 94. - Wave your hands in the air, a genuine dancefloor stomper complete, in the best mix, with sirens, funky guitars and ‘Planet Rock’ samples. Cheesy as hell but fun. Nowthat mainstream America is stuck in New Jack Hell, it seems that the Europeans are making much of the funk and soul for the planet (along with US holdouts in Frisco and New York). Check this out, especially in the slick, jazzy, flute-driven ‘Hustlers Dub Mix’. Cool. .. From the hand of DJ Duke, with a stunning slippery NYC styled trance mix from Junior Vasquez, whose club, the legendary Sound Factory, is the inspiration for this. Made for very big sound systems. ’ Whistle while you work. Cuban created, Miami based, African inspired, this sounds just like the title. yIiPIb idl nt m plb uidK nra ? ra n rw«mi» Chicago’s Roy Davis is best known for this longtrancey builder, in the DJ Pierre/ Junior Vasquez style. This is along the same lines but topped with a beautiful funky piano line and: a live sax. Highly SCHOOLY D Welcome To America - (Columbia) ; . TOO SHORT Get In Where You Fit In ... (Zomba) x ■ ; - . » - . ' ■ " ■■ D.R.S. Gangsta Lean (Capitol) ■ - WU-TANG CLAN Enter The Wu-Tang (36 Chambers) (BMG) ' • . Here are four artists all on the gangsta tip in one way or another, two from the very old school and two new kids on the block releasing their debut albums. As you would expect it’s a mixed bag. First up is Philadelphia’s original gangsta Schooly D. The ridiculous attitude major US labels have toward rap artists means this copy ofWelcome to America is marked as the ‘Special Clean Version For Radio.’ And that folks is scary. Here we have a major record company

bowing to redneck lobby groups, and endorsing the censoring of one of their artists. If Sony Music NZ, who are only acting as overseas distributors for Columbia Records, would be kind enough to send Rip It Up the uncensored copy of Welcome to America, it will definitely receive a full-length assessment. The original version of the album, with Schooly D in full effect, is the one I choose to hear and would like to review. Oakland’s Too Short is another original hip-hop star. Naturally being from the West Coast he’s firmly entrenched on the mellow tip and of course the dope beats are strictly old school. Most often this is a winning combination but Too Short has clearly run out of words. Virtually every rhyme on Get In Where You Fit In is the tale of a bitch or a ho, and of Short’s fondness for a lot of T & A. Snoop Dog or the Geto Boys can talk this talk and pull it off every time (no pun intended) ‘cause they possess a wild sense of humour. Too Short covers that territory well on ‘Blowjob Betty’ then doesn’t know when to stop. There’s fine beats goin’ on for sure, but lyrically, this man is fresh outta ideas. D.R.S are record company manufactured ‘gangstas’ and deserve less than no respect. The title track from their first album Gangsta Lean has been all over the airwaves on Mai FM and sits in the high rotate pile on the Pepsi video shows. This one song perfectly encapsulates the sound of the entire record. It overflows with lame beats, syrupy vocals and insipid lyrics. Way more entertaining is the band biography that accompanied the review copy of this record. It’s peppered with terrifically cliched ‘hood talk that could only have been written by a white collar in a high rise who thinks that big booties are something you buy for an oversized new born. Ask for a copy of this instead of the album. The Wu-Tang Clan are from the undisputed home of hip hop, New York. You would think with all that rap history to plunder the result would be a much greater record than this. Even Madonna could get into one, but that all important groove completely escapes the Clan. Not once over the dozen tracks on Enter The Wu-Tang do they produce a feel or a rhythm that could tempt a head to bounce or a toe to tap. The beats sound like they were thrown together as an after thought and lyrically their only concern is to prove what tough muthafuckers they believe they are. A totally unconvincing, not to mention extremely boring, debut album.

JOHN RUSSELL