Super_Collider
Head On
(Skint)
Spin, 1999
by Simon Reynolds
by Simon Reynolds
Head On is a twisted, tripped-out brother to Les Rhythmes Digitales Eighties-influenced
Darkdancer. But where Jacques LeCont's
fond exhumations of Shannon and Nik Kershaw are
typical French retro-kitsch, Super_Collider
treat Eighties electro-funk as
a prematurely
curtailed modernism. This English duo (producer Cristian Vogel and singer
Jamie Lidell) pick up where Zapp's "More Bounce To The Ounce", George Clinton's
"Atomic Dog," and Janet Jackson/Jam & Lewis's "Nasty"
left off. This era of dance music just before sampling totally took
over fascinates because of its crush collision between
trad musicianship and futurism: you can
hear the players struggling to extract funk from
unwieldy and unyielding drum machines, sequencers and synths. Hence the apparent
paradox
whereby the best Eighties dancepop still
sounds amazingly modern while much contemporary
dance music sounds retro--because today's producers get their funk by proxy, through
sampling Seventies sources like vintage disco loops or jazz-funk licks.
Head On gets me flashing on the boogie wonderland of the post-disco, pre-house interregnum--the bulbous synth-bass and juicy-fruit keyboard licks of Gap Band, Steve Arrington, Man Parrish, D-Train, SOS Band. But as you'd expect from someone who records solo for avant-techno labels Mille Plateaux and Tresor, Vogel's version of bodymusic is decidedly mangled and alienated-sounding, while Lidell croons a kind of cyborg hypersoul--grotesquely mannered, FX-warped, yet queerly compelling. Head On's highlight "Darn (Cold Way O' Lovin')" has a groove that bucks and writhes like a rutting hippotamus. "Take Me Home" is robo-Cameo, featuring a digitized equivalent of slap-bass and Lidell's most blackface warbling (imagine a bionic Steve Winwood). And "Alchemical Confession" is the kind of black rock I always hoped Tackhead or Material would deliver, all acrid guitar squalls and Lidell flailing like Jamiroquai in a meatgrinder (now that's something I'd pay to see).
A few years ago, Vogel released
an EP called "We Equate Machines With Funkiness".
Funk has always existed in the biomechanical zone between James Brown
aspiring to be a sex-machine and Kraftwerk finding the libidinous pulse within the
strict-time rhythms of automobiles and trains. When a band's playing has too
much fluency and human
feel, you don't get the tensile friction
that defines da funk (which is why an
excess of jazz influence
sounds the death-knell for any dance genre's ass-grind appeal). Super_Collider,though, have a
perfect grasp on funk's uncanny merger of supple and stiff, loose and tight.
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