Stanton Warriors The Remixes

I'm American, and maybe that's why I have very limited ideas about Bristol. It was the centre of the most exciting (in its sublime depression) musical developments of the 90s, as the great trinity of Massive Attack, Tricky, and Portishead made some of the most beatwise heroin music ever. Despite the gushed over rock volleys from Nirvana to Radiohead, the music that pops from the decade for me is all Bristol, distinctly meaning eclectic, hip hop minded, languidly paced, sparse, scary, emotionally tingly beat music with psychedelic dub treatments. Ignore the rash of generic, loungy "trip hop" that emerged and consider that downtempo has become one of the most elegant and creative musical niches out there, and it would not exist if not for Bristol. The splinters of the Wild Bunch reached the artistic high point in the 90s of a ball Mark Stewart started rolling (and yes, I mix metaphors like a DJ).

What does any of this have to do with Stanton Warriors? Probably very little, except to show that I am capable of grotesquely generalizing the whole of electronic music and cities I have not been to as an adult. I realize my ignorance when I listen to the breakbeat duo and catch myself thinking "This is from Bristol? Where's the low BPM and emaciated female torch singer? This is bullshit!" If my blindness to depth and diversity in music and cities leads me to compare apples and oranges, my lack of understanding also enables me to practice snobbery against breakbeat oranges. Still talking about broad terms, a good downtempo track for me evokes a smooth, subtle jazz drummer, judiciously staying in the pocket and playing within it only to briefly explode at just the right moments. Breakbeat, meanwhile, makes me think of a rock trained, competent drummer who tries to play jazz and can't help but bust a percussive nut all over at least five drums every other measure.

I don't know whether I'm criticizing Stanton Warriors or their subgenre when I say that their beats, loud and square to the front of the mix, so big at times as to approach block rockin', were sometimes initially off putting to me the first few times I listened to The Remixes. The opening take on Gorillaz' Feel Good Inc is not especially promising, as it is one of the most overbearing and least ingratiating versions of this pop hit I've heard. Stanton Warriors prize boldness over subtlety in their remixes, and listening to fifteen of them can get exhausting. It is not as satisfying as the DFA remix comps, which cover about half the tracks in the same amount of time, likewise bringing a rock charged aesthetic to the music, but also taking great time to establish and build mood and atmosphere, while Stanton Warriors mixes tend more to the maximal, flipping dynamics and bringing in new bells and whistles every few seconds, and throwing a few big rises and crescendos into nearly every track.

All is not as dire as initial impressions suggested, however, and Stanton Warriors are great craftsmen. The key to unlocking this collection laid in the middle. Versions of Coburn's We Interrupt This Program, Reach and Spin's Hyperfunk, and (the kings of maximalism concealing brilliant pop sense) Basement Jaxx's Jump & Shout are all stellar, showcasing Stanton Warriors at the peak of their ability. From here out its smooth sailing, and the remainder of the remixes seem to feature more room for space and texture that make the insistent beats all the more effective. The tracks that dominate the beginning (or, 45 minutes of party starters) hold up more strongly than expected, and conceal more care and depth than they at first suggest. Perhaps I'm just smarting from a bum intro with the Gorillaz mix. If a disappointing remix of such a well known and liked song was omitted completely or buried towards the end, perhaps it wouldn't have taken a stubborn fool like myself so long to acknowledge that The Remixes is really a damn good collection of dance songs.