If this is the personal stash belonging to the higher power, it’s a cut of reasonably potent gear to have you hovering over your seat. Straightforward, heart of the dancefloor beats that you can easily let yourself go to, hit standards in ‘90s jacking, funky-basslined piano house privileges that rep the Motor City to the fullest. Advocating this shipment of Detroit’s private reserve that makes for a leisurely day trip is the vastly experienced Terrence Parker, displaying all the steadiness of 2014’s ‘Life on the Back 9’ (also on Carl Craig’s Planet E), and not having to do too much to earn himself a local lifetime of free drinks with a title like that.
Despite Parker’s proclamations that each track has significance, it’s not an album as expressively rapturous as, say, Robert Hood has been when conducting choirs for dancefloors. ‘Lift Yo Hands Raise Em High’ is more about Voguing than anything else with a high-sass vocal, though Parker fans and house authenticators can argue that the classic sound epitomised by ‘Just Like Muzik’ practises mind-body-soul virtues that will naturally awaken spirituality within. At his most powerful when he’s at his most laid-back, simplicity (‘Latter Rain – Healing Rain Mix’) guides waxing and waning chords on instinct; and as with ‘The Sabath’, the cloudless skies of studio surround sound does its best to calm any choppy waters you may be experiencing.
The minimal techno of ‘Let’s Go’ holds the album’s overall warmth close – this is not an album expressing geographical rawness or its mechanised mindstate. This all comes after the inauspicious opener ‘Bassment Beatz’, a rock solid strut featuring a vocal so crap (or you’re hoping, ironic), it turns the ‘French Kiss’ dressing into an awkward over-tongued snog. A nice and comfortable house collection plate with chilled condiments, the temperature is a safe mild rather than anything spicier, yet stays useful in harmonising or combating a heatwave.
Words: Matt Oliver
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