Los Angeles
Last year, the dark house and relentless pace of John Digweed'sHong Kong Global Undergroundmix was a shock to even electronic music's surreal, cannibalistic consciousness. Digweed has never been a glow-stick-waving Goa hippie by any means, butHong Kongwas a nuclear winter of subterranean rhythms, bouncing off the moldy walls and testing once again techno's shaky, constantly evolving genre definitions. It had suddenly become crystal clear that Detroit-style industrialism has finally and completely mind-melded with trance. So it's not surprising, then, that his latest,Los Angeles, continues along that same cold, brawny vein. Still, you might suspect a Digweed recording from the City of Angels would be a glitzier affair. But L.A. has always had a sinister edge, an almost apocalyptic feeling that the whole city could crumble at any minute under the weight of broken dreams and loveless ambitions. Digweed latches onto that vibe right off on the first disc, spinning "Love in Traffic" from noted producer-DJSatoshi Tomiie. In Digweed's hands, the track grinds itself against your ears with a detached, dirty passion, indulging in a slowly burning build. From there, he taps ever deeper into the filthy heart of primal dance music, coalescing his mix around scrappy, metallic cross-rhythms, shadowy bass lines, and cruel, selfish beats. His work on the second disc is even sexier, as Digweed takes advantage of what's come before to flex his muscular ears and turn up the juice on what at this point must be a sweaty mess of makeup, silicone, and six-pack abs. It's almost vicious, the timing this man has in dropping down a needle on irresistible records like "The Fall" by Way Out West, but we must accept his glorious brutality, gather up the sad remnants of our self-respect, and make our way home in the soft morning light. Saturday night happens 52 times a year, after all.--Matthew Cooke