|DISCOGRAPHY : COMPILATIONS : TIGERSUSHI - MORE G.D.M.
|Various Artists - "More G.D.M."
TSRCD001, Dec 05 2002
01 Gina X - No G.D.M.
02 Metro Area - We Also Not
03 Maurice Fulton - Feel The Same
04 Silver Apples - Salad
05 Bush Tetras - Things That Go Boom In The Night
06 Alice Machine - Night Hunt
07 Tokow Boys - Swinging Pool
08 Max Berlin - Elle et Moi
09 Chapter Three - Smurf Trek
10 T.B.S. - Extraterrestrial Manoeuvres In The Dark featuring Jamalski
11 Shalark - Shalade (Salad Remix)
12 Material - Secret Life produced by Bill Laswell
13 Seven Grand Housing Authority - Love's Got Me High
14 John Tejada - Present Pretense
15 Cluster - Hollywood
More G.D.M regroupe tous les maxis déjà sortis, plus 2 inédits. On découvre (ou redécouvre pour les plus avertis), des artistes comme Gina X, idole de Joakim, Max Berlin, disciple spirituel de Gainsbourg (période Mélody Nelson) et les nouvelles stars de l'électronique comme Metro Area, Maurice Fulton ou le duo français, Shalark. Une compilation des plus précieuses, recueil d'oeuvres magistrales, menée de main de maître par monsieur Joakim. Essentiel.
The More G.D.M.' series is an eye-opening multi-genre compilation from French label cum website, Tigersushi. There have already been five vinyl EPs in the series, but this compilation pulls together their entire contents plus five exclusive bonus tracks. The idea behind the series is that it brings to light quality electronica cuts of yesteryear and sets them alongside the musical works of contemporary visionaries. German artist Gina X's 80s offering, No G.D.M.' (that's No Great Dark Man') - forms the title track. The punk-electro march with Gina's Germanic-android vocal was (perhaps unsurprisingly), a favourite at New York's infamous Danceteria club way back in 1981. Then there's Bush Tetras' mad Banshees-style guitar track, Things That Go Boom in the Night', Max Berlin (the French underground's own Barry White), with Elle et Moi' and even Seven Grand Housing Authority's 90s feel good US house track Love's Got Me High' which all stand out. In fact, the retro element here has a lot more to offer than the contemporary save for French act Alice Machine with seedy electro offering Night Hunt', nu wave tech house bod, John Tejada - who adds a smattering of dub with Present Pretense' - and the Tigersushi Bass System featuring Jamalski, which warns of a dangerous funk invasion while detonating its own hip hop/electro explosives. Pretentious? Well, it does have a tendency to go off the deep end in places; Silver Apples Salad' cacophony and Tokow Boys insane juvenile ditty Swinging Pool' had me scratching my head and looking up post modernism in the dictionary, but in general this is a great collection of obscure goodies.
You're sick of it, I'm sick of it, but ignore it as you might, electroclash ain't going back into that closet doubling as a fifth floor walk-up any time soon. It's on the floor to stay, neither muffling its cheap-sex grunts nor apologizing for its shitty haircuts, shredded thrift store shirts, $200 pants, spiked wristbands, and trucker caps. Funny thing is, with all the trawling for irrelevant and/or relished treasures, this little crossbred genre that's finally come home to roost has been giving dissidents reason to pull up some other lost music not made by coke-loving third rate models. In what may be the only outpost of French love for the US at the moment (and vice-versa), Tigersushi not only functions as a website that namechecks the lost downtown groups, delves into fringe Village figures, weird hip-hop, the funkiest of Krautrockers and all the latest remixers but as a label, mashes genres into a great, rubbery wad. Taking all that knowledge down to the stoops and out on their rooftops, they dropped some serious pidgin shit in 5 EPs, jumbling old and new together in an electro tongue that's both an exclamation and a groan: More Goddamned Music?!
Famous for her opening turn on Andrew Weatherall's Nine O'Clock Drop-- one of the first comps to poke at the abandoned bum of "left-field disco"-- eurotrash warbler Gina X is in the lead-off slot again, taking a detached drum kick and Vicki the Robot vocals to offer up tribute to an English gentleman, with an attitude that resonates twenty years on, snotty and clear. The Bush Tetras' detuned tom thud of Things That Go Boom in the Night gets further reduced by Alice Machine into reverberating finger snaps, loin-quivering low tones, and coy femme coos about being on the night-prowl.
It wouldn't be French without some of their own bizarre contributions to the world of trashy fashion recordings tacked on, no matter how plastic. Going as far back as 1978 to document a bastard child of Gainsbourg's Requiem Por Un Con clopping on Superfly's lost roto-toms, a froggy Max Berlin gulps through ripples of melodica and synth wave into some illegitimate disco for Elle et Moi that is quelle bizarre. Even in the shallow end of Ya-Ya girl babble in Swinging Pool, an homage to the Club Palace, it feels relatively deep today.
Old and new get confused, which is easier to preach than practice. The alien-abducted graffito of Chapter Three (which convenes somewhere between Sun Ra, Special Request, and Sugarhill Gang) brings the fresh-dork fusion of Smurf Trek, while Jamalski, beamed from the dying planet of BDP, gets to toast on top of Extraterrestrial Manoeuvers in the Dark, and it's as if time has slipped together. Acts like Metro Area retain their rain-slicked cool clacks and snapping clomps for We Also Not, even standing next to mid-nineties Detroit producer Terrence Parker, while relative newcomer Maurice Fulton leaves Stevie Wonder's floaties in Tri Repetae's pool.
Least interesting is Silver Apples' one-trick pony, an oscillator perfect-pitched onto a banjo in the desktop recycle bin. Simeon's track makes him out as a Charlie Kaufman-type, cantankerously babbling to his girlfriend about salad for four minutes. On the other hand, Tigersushi does present the first swatch of Bill Laswell's Material that doesn't make me nauseous-- in fact this hot shit track has me rethinking my whole take on the man. That they glean Cluster's creamy Hollywood for the finale-- so epic in its electro splendor-- auguring G-ride frequencies on a Flight of the Valkyries type of trip is leaving the goddamned best for last.