Little Louie Vega: Back In The Box

"Little" Louie Vega
Back in the Box
NRK
Available as import

One of the best things about dance music is the ease with which the genre’s past can inform the genre’s present. In rock n’ roll and hip-hop, there’s always something disturbingly Oedipal in the way new blood extinguishes old fire, old scenes giving way to the new in what appears to be merely an endless procession of kids who each believe that they, in turn, have been the very first to discover amplified noise. This is not to say that rock musicians or rappers don’t pay the lip-service of obeisance to their elders (or the quiet tribute of outright theft), but it’s essential for the young to believe they have supplanted the old, or that, to put it another way, the old are no longer a tactical threat. Why else do so many MCs fade away before they reach their mid-30s?

This is not to say that dance music doesn’t have its scenes or its cliquish agisms, just like the rest of pop music. But there is a crucial difference here in that the primary mode of performance for dance music is not actually live performance, but DJs spinning records. By necessity, the act of playing a set composed primarily of other peoples’ records enforces a kind of humility on the performer. This is why the “Superstar DJ” phenomenon of the late ’90s was so anomalous, and why the continued popularity of heels like Tiesto is a sore spot for so many old-school heads. No matter how good a DJ may be, no DJ is bigger than the music they play.

“Little” Louie Vega is a great example of a supposedly “old school” DJ who has managed to stay at or near the top of his game for over 20 years. By himself and as one half of the duo Masters at Work, he’s been at the forefront of house music culture almost as long as there’s even been such a thing as house music. Back in the Box is a new series dedicated to exploring the old-school of dance music, for the benefits both of those who may not have been around the first time, and those of us who were. The phrase “back in the box” refers to the practice of DJs reaching deep into their crates to pull out all their greatest hits from days gone by — records that may not have been played in a while, but still deserve a place in rotation by virtue of their classic status.

At the risk of blowing my dispassionate critical objectivity, let me just say that this is a damn fine mix. Vega manages to avoid the twin traps of either filling up his disc with too much in the way of obvious classics, or avoiding the well-trod path altogether and giving us a well-meaning but less-than-satisfying set full of obscurities. So, yeah, you’ve got a few monster tracks here: Crystal Waters’ “Gypsy Woman (She’s Homeless)”, for one. Did you ever think it’d be OK to like that one again? It actually sounds pretty good, but then, I had to go almost 15 years without thinking about it before I could forgive it for sounding so stupid the first time around.

But there are a few other familiar names as well. Ashley Beedle’s Black Science Orchestra shows up with the funky “Where Were You?”, which segues into “U Used To Hold Me” by Ralphi Rosario and Xavier Gold, a one-two punch of two of the most influential house tracks of all time. I’m always glad to hear Norma Jean Bell’s “I’m the Baddest Bitch (In the Room)”, even if I prefer the Motorbass remix over the soul-inflected original. Eric Kupper’s remix of Groove Collective’s soulful cover of the Beatles’ “I Want You (She’s So Heavy)” loses a few points for missing out on the thrust of the original. (It’s just bizarre to hear one of the Beatles’ most menacing songs sound so smooth.)

But even if there are a few tracks I could have lived without — Romanthony’s endlessly annoying “Let Me Show You Love”, for one — the mix wins back every ounce of good will by including a couple of my all-time favorites. Norman Cook, Mr. Fatboy Slim himself, shows up in his Mighty Dub Katz guise, with the endlessly catchy “It’s Just Another Groove”, probably one of my top ten dance tracks ever. And while it isn’t perhaps very rare, I am also glad to hear Sounds of Blackness’ “The Pressure”, which is one of those classy records that simply never outstays its welcome. If you know your house music history, you’re bound to find just as much to enjoy about this disc. It’s quite simply a pleasure, a trip down memory lane that manages to indulge in nostalgia without ever seeming gratuitous or pandering. These tracks are as much of a good time now as they ever were, and that’s not something that can be easily counterfeited.

RATING 7 / 10