Archigram-Carnival
Being a house obsessive means records are constantly jostling in your memory to be the ones which remind you of great nights out. There must be about 100 I absolutely love, and 100 more I dance to and enjoy. It’s always difficult to decide on a favourite. Impossible, maybe. The fact that dance music is such a massive ocean only makes it harder. I like some records because they are deep in the mix style belters, and I don’t expect friends to understand when I stick them on the stereo at 7 on a Friday evening (though sometimes they do, and for a few minutes our little room is like any nightclub).


The great tragedy about Carnival by Archigram, is that it was released in a year when hacks were more concerned with talking about dance music’s demise than listening to records or going out. It’s understandable, nightclubs can get pretty noisy, I once had a beer spilt on me, disgusting. I firmly believe that if 2002 was 1997 Carnival by Archigram would not only be considered a great record, it would be considered one of the greatest.


Carnival is a record for people, you don’t need to like dance music to get it, though if you don’t a few listens may be needed with your stereo turned up to 11. It’s a record which imitates the house mix in its own series of waves and undulations, from the gently rippling bassline to those tingling filters in the background which seem to make the track one endless musical climax. And the final straw is one gigantic trumpet stab doused all over the track, which can only prompt the listener to pump their fists, or jump in the air, or even play air guitar.


So it builds, and it falls, and it builds, and it endlessly builds and falls, eventually falling back into the trumpet riff again. It’s an intensely subtle record, it’s also one of the biggest “tunes” I know. How it pulls off the two is something of a miracle, I’m unsure any record since DJ Rolando’s epic Jaguar has walked this line with such verve. It’s this nonchalant feat which means Carnival makes the fan a critic and the critic a fan, with both trying to figure out why they’re dancing.


Magic.