Review of K7! Tapes compiled by The Rapture.
New Year's Eve 2008; you're at Amethyst from work's party - well, it was the best offer, in fact let's be honest, it was the only offer - and just like last year you're stuck talking to that accountant from Hitchin about net present value. The canapés look like roadkill, the peanuts are stale and someone's just tried pouring vodka into their eyeball and is now being looked after by an off-duty paramedic. All in all, a taxi home and Jools' Hootenanny is beginning to look like an attractive prospect and there's no doubt that this is the worst new year's eve - ever.
Then the door crashes in on it's hinges, and a guy with an afro brushing the ceiling and a leather coat more seventies than Hammy The Hamster chewing on a Spangle strolls across the room, ripping out the iPod - which was playing that god-awful new Keane record - before replacing it with his own and taking up residence on the Barker And Stonehouse throw.
All of a sudden this party begins to jam. New retro sounds begin to fill the room, firstly taking on the feel of a funky seventies Harlem block party, courtesy of vintage junk old and new from the likes of the Bar-Kays and Ghostface Killah. Then it's a trip down to Studio 54, via off-the-beaten-track floor fillers like Don Armando and his Second Avenue Rumba Band, for what else (!) but his long lost classic I'm an Indian Too.
Your very own love train then choo-choos on to what sounds like the eighties; cocktail lounge chintz of Kiloo's The Passion You and the vaguely Axel F feel of Syclops Where's Jason K. The previously statuesque crowd are now 'avin' it' in full flow, you've taken off your Kagoul and there's enough love in the room even to forgive the inclusion of Armand Van Helden's scandalous Prince rip-off Flowerz and the presumably thrown in as a joke Get Get Down. As the thumping, so in the moment it hurts nuevo breaks of Dances With White Girls threatens to turn your spine to mush and DJ Mujava's chattering Township Funk threatens to take you to tribal funky tech nirvana, a lava lamp becomes a glitter ball and then a strobe light. By the time Richie Havens' wall shaking classic Going Back To My Roots is rulin' the place, the police are knocking down the door, you're doing the mamushka with the accountant and godamn - it's the best new year's eve - ever.
PS - Yes, it is that The Rapture, yes those of House of Jealous Lovers fame - yes the ones that created new rave and the indie-disco crossover - and no, I don't know why they felt the need to take on DFA at their own retro roller bladin' game but it's worked.