REVIEW: Laurent Garnier, 30 (F Communications/Never Records)

- David Landgren

I had to laugh the other day at something I read in the mainstream press. Or, to be more precise, something I read in the alternative press about the mainstream press. For it seems that America has, at long last, "discovered" techno music. In all modesty, it seems to me that Consumable has been reviewing since its inception in 1993 the best of the European techno scene.

The really amusing part about the whole story is that 'Techno' per se is already dead, or at least, it has splintered into so many different currents as to be impossible to map entirely. Take 30, from Laurent Garnier, one of the European paramount grandmasters in the DJ/house/dance scene. His second album (and his age), 30 documents Garnier's flight from the dancefloor to something a little more thoughtful and experimental.

Before serious clubbers and ravers dismiss it outright, there is some hardcore dance material in the shape of "Flashback" (what's the sample? "acid is a state of mind", yeah ri-i-ight). But that's all there is like that. The subtext being to have one, and one only, of everything; if you want an album all alike, you'll have to go elsewhere. Garnier chooses to cast his net wide, trying his hand at different things. Sometimes the experiments don't quite work out, but I don't think he'll be offended if you skip over to the next track. It's a challenging and rewarding slice of electronica.

Laurent Garnier adheres to what might be termed the boostrap or constructionist approach; that is, a song is built from the ground up by starting the merest shred of melody or beat, and then progressively bringing more samples and sequences online and weaving them into the groove. The effect of which, when well done, creates an uplifting feeling of anticipation.

The album opens up with an elegant little Eno number, "Deep Sea Diving", a restless yet calming ambient passage, before moving into a "Sweet Mellow D", a long synthetic meandering landscape, the only sound from the real world being a heavily distorted handclap. The former is brilliant, yet far too short, and the second starts out well, but too bad it doesn't stay short.

The jewel of the disc is "For Max", an infectious slow-acting dub; a curious track that benefits from repeated listens. I keep thrashing this track. There are three things going on, a bluesy groove, a harsh, scraping industrial interjection and finally an aerien wash weaving in and out. Yeah, a brilliant track that benefits from repeated listens. Max is lucky. Garnier following his bluesy instincts also gives rise to "Feel the Fire", another slow burner.

The "Crispy Bacon", the album's single (a pun of all the cyber blah blah dance tracks doing the rounds), is a more upfront hi-NRG piece. The difficulty of the exercise is to know when to stop. Here's where you can participate at home. All you have to do is the skillful DJ bit and fade into something else about three minutes before the end of the song.

The one you don't even want to program in at all is "The Hoe". "Yo man, 'zat yo woman over there dancin' with that brother? -- Yeah man, she ain't nothin' but a whore". Ha ha ha, but he thought they said "hoe", see? Hence the title of the song. But I digress. Apart from that it's an awful melody. Zap. Also on the subject of Let's Really Piss Off The Listener is "La Minute Du Repondeur Le Plus Casse-Couilles", which loosely translates to "My Answering Machine Is A Pain In The Ass". Answering machines are passe. That, and, "*?*", some kind of in-joke, (and it's not MS-DOS).

But that's about it as far as songs that don't work out. "Mid Summer Night" is fine, coming across as a modern-day minimalist Mike Oldfield. I'd almost swear one of the samples was lifted from Tubular Bells. There is also "Theme From Larry's Dub": an African groove, a flute solo, a dash of Henry Mancini's "The Elephants' Walk" and even The Clash's "Junko Partner". In other words, it's pretty berserk.

Magnificent in closing, Garnier finishes with the majestic "Le Voyage de Simone". In listening to Tricky a while ago I remembered that I had forgotten about Yazoo's Upstairs at Eric's. This track also evokes that feeling. If my stylus wasn't dangerously worn I'd think about digging that vinyl up and seeking out some of its gloomier tracks. It's that good.