from the 12” single, Uphoria Records, 1993
One of the first raves I ever attended was a tiny gathering of ~200 kids in the woods of northwestern Massachusetts during the early fall of 1993, put on at a time when parties were just beginning to get a foothold in the American psyche, and it was abundantly clear to many of us that this was gonna be our shot at experiencing something similar to what the generations before had done with “acid tests”. I remember this track getting spun: not the beginning of it so much, but the moment that sample from Janet Jackson’s Rhythm Nation dropped into the floor’s conscience there wasn’t a single blasé expression in the place---this was our childhood, remixed & repackaged, virtually re-imagined as MDMA’s clarion call unto a shared vision of empathetic unity, “…in complete darkness we are all the same, it is only our knowledge and wisdom that separates us; don’t let your eyes deceive you…” Being from Florida, and proud of the fact that I’d already been into beats for a couple of years prior, I marched boldly up to the booth and asked the DJ what this track was, and after getting a gruff reply I figured I would try to impress him with my knowledge of breakbeats, so I requested that he spin Smart E’s – Sesame’s Treet---BIG mistake. This dude turned to me and said something like, “sorry man, that cut is way too mainstream”. Ouch. I recoiled and slinked away, feeling decidedly un-cool for the next couple minutes, but I never forgot the name of this amazing track.
from the LP Experience, XL Recordings, 1992Sure, you could call the Prodigy a “band” in strict terms, thanks to the assistance of dancers and, occasionally, someone singing or rapping, but it would be misleading in the scheme of things---for all intents & purposes, Prodigy’s tunes are the work of one Liam Howlett, an Essex-born punter who was 18 years old when Britain was turning on and enjoying their Summer of Love, and like so many other kids at that time he was hypnotized by the combination of beats and E. The major difference about his DJing and, eventually, production pursuits were that he was, quite literally, a “prodigy” in every sense of the word: his early mixes were mad fresh, his ability to lace forward-thinking beats was matched only by a small few, and some of the most memorable samples from rave’s early days arrived care of his tracks. Case in point is this song right here, where he pinched the infamous vocal intro from classic prog-psych monster “Fire” by Arthur Brown, along with a killer snip from Pablo Gad (much slept-on), on what sounds like helium, “…when I was a youth I used to burn collie weed in a Rizla…” This album was pretty much solid from front to cover, a rarity in general, but even more so among electronica long-players, so props to Liam.
from the 12” single, XL Recordings, 1992
This one was friggin’ HUGE people! Along with their smash “On A Ragga Tip”, this track by the Essex-reared duo of Slipmatt & Lime (a.k.a. SL2) proved to be an instrumental transition point at the genesis of breakbeat’s evolution into jungle. Producers were just beginning to experiment with different time signatures around this time, and after snagging a perfect loop from Wayne Smith’s “Under Me Sleng Teng”, SL2 constructed a groove which sounded ever-so slightly different from the standard breakbeat tracks going around at that time, a rhythm & vibe which would prove to be wholly prescient in the year or so after this release; it’s mind-blowing when one realizes the staggering amount of worldwide influence that music made on the tiny island of Jamaica has had over the years! Big ups to the old school jungle & breakbeat massive!!!
from the 12” single, FFRR records, 1991
MAN, this track was so huge in Florida when it dropped, along with virtually anything else that dealt in the hardcore breaks; what’s excellent, subjectively anyways, is that the message of this single has continued to be an integral part of my character through all these years, “…different strokes, for different folks, whatever makes you happy…” It’s one of the reasons why I truly take pleasure in living way out west here, because the axiom “live & let live” continues to thrive---well, excepting for a blotch on the map about 2 hours south of here that, well, we just won’t speak of it. Chris ‘Isotonik’ Paul has gone on to have an illustrious career being a high-paid DJ to the stars, but back in 1991 he was just a raggedy kid who was lucky enough to get in on the ground floor of what would soon become the jungle scene, alongside such mainstays as Fabio (not the blonde d-bag, do your homework people…) & Grooverider. Big ups to the breakbeat massive!!
from the 12” single, Reinforced Records, 1992
It already seems like some of the more forward-thinking beats-heads are marinating in advance of the 20-year retro rule and beginning to bring back some of the more elemental vibes from early rave music, and I for one couldn’t be happier about that; if there’s one genre of music that I would like to see wholly revisited, it’s the early ‘90s breakbeat scene. The overriding sense of melody, the alarm sirens, the swifty breaks, and that sub, mmmmmmmm, the seismic roll of a sub-bass will never lose its appeal to me. The career of renowned beats duo Marc & Dego, better known to the world as 4 Hero, reads like an evolutionary map of the breaks, as they helped usher in the first waves of both breakbeat & jungle, then practically invented the concept of “broken beat” by themselves. This frenetic single finds them standing on the precipice of jungle’s birth, “…cookin’ up ya brain…bust another sample….let the bass go…ya’ll ready for this…?” Damn right!
from the 12” single, Ruffbeat Records, 1992
Starting things off with a sample lifted from one of my all-time favorite De La Soul joints (“The Magic Number”), this old school breatbeat track from the Gloucester based trio Yolk was guaranteed to catch my attention, and it still sounds fresh to my ears almost two decades later; they go on to sample A-Ha’s “Take On Me” as well, which was a bloody brilliant move! At the time when it came out this track banged really hard, but the considerable evolution of beats since then has left it feeling a bit lighter on its feet, a good outcome I believe; for real, it’s difficult to imagine this being considered “hardcore” anymore, even ten years ago for that matter. For some reason though, all in all, this song and much of the early ‘90s breakbeat output has aged rather well, perhaps suggesting that the breaks themselves are never gonna stop moving our feet.
from the 12” single, Moving Shadow Records, 1993
All you Quentin Tarantino fans out there will instantly recognize the howling alarm in this track from fight scenes within his memorable Kill Bill movie series---now you also know the original track he pinched it from, and knowing is half the battle (go ahead and break into the G.I. Joe theme song, I know you already have). My first encounter with this came back in 1993, not at some rave or nightclub, but thanks to Moonshine Records’ excellent Speed Limit 140+ BPM series; I had volumes 1 – 3 on CD and used to play them all the time. ‘Cloud 9’ was but one of Londoner Gavin Cheung’s many aliases, and he was responsible for creating some of the most memorable breakbeat tracks of that time; he has since transitioned into the jungle arena and is still dropping new records to this day.
from the 12” single, Suburban Base Records, 1992
One of the first rave anthems I remember, looping the theme to Sesame Street beneath some wicked breakbeats---dig the phat spliff in Oscar’s hand on the cover!
from the 7” single, Suburban Base Records, 1991
There is perhaps no musical element more integral to and emblematic of early rave music than the piano stab, those energetic bursts of chords which follow along to the song’s BPM; the influence for this, I suspect, comes from the other modern genre of music where the piano/keyboard is played in a stabbing manner (albeit, much slower)---reggae. I attended my first full-fledged rave in the early fall of 1993, and this kind of sound was still very popular then; typically referred to as “breakbeat”, this style of beats went in two major directions later in the decade: 1) slowed down breaks called “big beat”, and 2) sped up faster for what would be the era of jungle & drum-n-bass. All of the samples here mesh impeccably, from the tribal chanting that highlights much of the track to the Woodstock vocal sample that gives the song its name, “…that kid’s gonna be far out…”
from the 12” single, Uphoria Records, 1993
