Various Artists / ‘Fabric 56 mixed by Derrick Carter’
CD / Digital
Fabric / Released 28th February 2011
Does this really need a review? Or are we all familiar enough to say nothing, buy, and be confident of the quality? Well, thankfully, the latter is true, but we’ll still oblige with an overview- think of it as a mark of respect.
“I’ve got to find a way to fill the space in time…” proud as you like, with this Green Velvet acapella Chicago legend, and Plain & Simple favourite Derrick L. Carter starts his mix for London’s foremost superclub. So, in a series that has gifted us some decidedly memorable after party material, how does it hold up?
It’s always interesting with DJs like this. How do you possibly put down on CD what it’s like to see a stocky Windy City veteran leaping around the booth, tearing through vinyl at a rate that’s often difficult to comprehend? With difficulty, is the answer. But, as is proved here, it is possible (albeit thanks to a little imagination).
You might not be able to see him, but by the time Almost September’s Love kicks in, complete with a bassline that defines boompty boomp, it’s impossible not to feel him. It lunges, beats drop out and a lot happens (not least squelching noises and an MC). From here on in, that’s pretty much the way things go, like the man himself said “It’s Derrick. All Day.”
Hector Moralez’s treatment of Playin’ Tricks by Nick Garcia finally gets things rolling steadily, while the barber’s shop quartet male vocal stabs ensure tongue is firmly placed inside cheek, before those opening lyrics drop back in for a second time, adding to the feel of this being a proper session. Like the beat juggles, cuts, three track mixes and filtered effects throughout, it’s nigh on impossible to fully recognise where one tune stops and another begins.
All this means when Cajmere’s filthy anthem, Percolator, drops, the deal is done. Heads bobbing, acidic accents tweaking, a familiar feeling of madness begins to wash over. That’s the only reason Abraham Inc’s manic, neo-Romany-techno house-hoe-down Moskowitz Remix seems vaguely normal. Lunatic brass sections invoke images of the lights coming on as our headliner (here read compiler) finally lets loose with cartoon like menace. If you’ve never seen him, you’ll struggle to get this close without leaving your house.
