
Fabric 25
by Andy Kellman"Ahh yeah, let me see you work, let me see you work...oooooooh...bring it on down, bring it on down -- ungh!" That's not a transcription of lyrics from a track on Carl Craig's mix for the Fabric series. Instead, that's one of the several exultations Craig himself scatters throughout the set, giving it the strange feel of a live mix done in front of action figures or a muted Night Court episode instead of dancing humans. Depending on your mindset, this factor can either degrade or enhance the experience. (All that's missing is a radio spot from a Detroit staple like Watts Club Mozambique or Mr. Alan's.) Appearing three years after The Workout, a phenomenal mix for React, Craig's Fabric 25 is relatively straightforward and steadily active. Anything that leans toward the abstract remains either discreet or atop the deep rhythmic thrust of the mix. As well as Craig's excited whoops, the lack of allegiance to a particular trend or set of likeminded labels only helps to differentiate this set from most others released in 2005. Pulling mostly from house tracks that date from 2004 and 2005, the set begins with an altered version of Ying Yang Twins' "Wait (The Whisper Song)"; a minute in, a very Carl Craig synthesizer wash enters and takes over, giving way to Craig's maniacal laughter. Once the sedate Basic Channel-like pulse of his own "Angel" enters, normalcy -- or something resembling the expected -- ensues, but "Wait"'s inclusion shouldn't be all that surprising when it sounds almost exactly like a track Craig would produce if he made rap records. Since only a couple selections had appeared on other mixes prior to release, the mix maintains a freshness that doesn't rely on obvious picks. Craig's "Darkness" -- a thrilling fusion of his beefy mix of Throbbing Gristle's "Hot on the Heels of Love" with ending theatrics learned from Yellow Magic Orchestra's "Firecracker," along with flashbacks to Landcruising's "Mind of a Machine" -- is the highlight of highlights. Kenny Larkin contributes the swirling avant gospel-house of "Good God," D'Malicious' "Alive" puts a soulboy spin on mid-'90s Germanic techno, and Scott Grooves' "The Journey" carries the delirious breakdown from Martin Circus' "Disco Circus" to Africa.