Last year’s mix for BBC Radio 1’s Big Weekend, his last high-profile mix, found Joshua Spence Mainnie – better known as the Scottish DJ/Producer Barry Can’t Swim – stringing warm, soulful disco, house, funk, soul, and African music across light, floaty trance and uptempo bangers like so many fairy lights on a blonde balustrade.
On the first new Late Night Tales in five years, Barry Can’t Swim ditches the bannister to deliver 20 tracks of light, atmospheric, ambient piano, Moroccan jazz, IDM, and ethereal new wave that is as singular as it is full of surprises. It’s more than a chance for Mainnie to show off his great taste, although it does that in shovelfuls. It’s a chance for him to show off cuts other than what his big-name/big-room clout might demand.
Barry Can’t Swim’s late-night reverie begins on a tender note with the chamber piano and warm, breathy saxophone of Jackson Mico Milas’ “Sea, Interior” before settling into the Gnawa-by-way-of-Twin-Peaks of Majid Bekkas & Magic Spirit Quartet’s “Annabi”, an early highlight of the mix. It doesn’t take long for some momentum to build, though, with Loket’s “Afternoon At Barenquell” dispelling any worry that the latest Late Night Tales is just going to be some non-descript yoga playlist.
The momentum drops off nearly immediately, but Superpitcher‘s “Yves” keeps things coasting along, even if it is in neutral, with its slight, shuffling beat and airy harp arpeggios. This floating feeling persists on Scott Orr’s “Scott”, dropping out the beat but keeping things drifting forward with interlocking crystal arpeggiators. Even this momentum stills with Marigold Sun’s “Here Lies Love”, which sounds more like watching the sunset from the beach than cresting the waves.
Thankfully, the cryogenic haze breaks with Barry Can’t Swim’s own “Chala (My Soul Is on a Loop)”, the first exclusive of the set, which perks things up with what sounds like some Bollywood strings and vocals, glittering in the footlights, while neon drones bob and dip in time. The momentum carries on Freddy da Stupid “Back to Pangea Part II (Jazzapella Version)”, with kalimbas dancing on a bedrock of crisp trance/techno beats. It’s another highlight of the set.
Finally, the mist seems to part fully for Daniel Avery‘s remix of Factory Floor‘s “How You Say”, which does away with the prismatic mirage in favour of a stripped-down house/techno shuffle. Ronald Langestraat’s “Lowdown” keeps the hustle going, summoning early 1990s bouncy-house pianos and a crooning vocal to keep things classy while still bubbly, fizzy, and electric. Lance Desardi’s “The Power of Suggestion” keeps things up, gliding along like a hovercraft on a house beat, with a stuttering, strobing vocal sample.
O’Flynn’s “Kola” stays locked in, trading in the house bounce for a modern two-step beat before settling into its stride as an epic deep house anthem. This hypnotic daze breaks with Accelera Deck’s “This Bliss”, with its precise drum’n’bass slamming in out of nowhere. It’s another highlight of the mix. Barry Can’t Swim returns to the ethnographic new-age roots of the beginning, with the Steve Reichian “Goma (A-Mix)” of Pepe, before This Mortal Coil’s “The Lacemaker” materialises like an angel emerging from the gloom, breathtaking in its baroque beauty and sheer unpredictability.
Last but not least, St. Francis Hotel’s “Dawn” comes on like a coda, sounding like a soft rock seduction rolling over the credits of some erotic arthouse flick from the 1970s. Mainnie brings the lights back up with his own “Ferdinand Magellan (Exclusive Felt Cover Version)”.
It feels like a good time for Late Night Tales to resurrect their iconic mix series. For one, electronic music feels more genre-agnostic than ever, with DJ/producers like Djrum making a name for themselves on the reputation of the sheer gall of their genre-defying DJ sets. For another, expert curation seems more necessary than ever, as well. There’s just so much music that it feels impossible to keep up with even your favourites.
Trusted tastemakers and thoughtful curators like Late Night Tales and Barry Can’t Swim help us make sense of the chaos, separating the signal from the noise and the wheat from the chaff. Whether you’re just looking to get a better handle on Mainnie’s tastes and influences, some fodder for your own playlists, mixtapes, or DJ sets, or are simply looking for an interesting collection of songs to space out and drift to, you’ll find what you’re looking for on Barry Can’t Swim’s mix for Late Night Tales.