Over thirty-odd years, Sean Dickson's
musical journey has been a wonder to behold.
From fronting Buzzcocks inspired Glasgow shamblers
turned Baggy love-gods the Soup Dragons, Dickson's
sideways move to psych-pop troupe The High Fidelity was nothing
compared to the full-blown damascene dance-floor conversion that
eventually followed. Since then, Dickson's euphoric adventures as a
DJ and producer under the Hifi Sean moniker
have sounded as far away from the Bellshill scene he came out of as
can be.
As joyous as such a package remains, listening to a whirl of high-energy musical gymnastics on a drizzly Tuesday afternoon can be pretty exhausting if there's no dance-floor in sight. Perhaps it was with this in mind that Ft. Excursions has been invented. Styled as Ft.'s 'little sister' and released on white vinyl in a limited edition of 300 for this year's Record Store Day, its contents are designed for the sort of after parties where the sun is cracking the flags both inside and out. Where the original album is a jaunty hands-in-the-air extravaganza, this new set of constructions sees a welter of producers throw off-kilter googlies into a mix designed to keep the come-down at bay.
Dickson's original take on 18th featured Teenage Fanclub mainstay and the only member of Dickson's roster who is from the same musical pedigree, Norman Blake. If the song's shuffly beats already betrayed Dickson's indie-dance roots, French remixer Azaxx' Late Night Reprise heightens it even more. Blake's multi-tracked vocal is a melancholy downer wrapped up in a swirly-whirly groove that carries on dancing like its 1992 regardless.
2016's Ft.
album capitalised on Dickson's eclectic
connections with a hands-in-the-air grab-bag of beat-heavy
confections featuring an all-star cast of guest vocalists and
artistes. These ranged from Yoko Ono
and Bootsy Collins to B52 Fred Schneider
singing about trucks and Suicide's Alan Vega's
last recording. As if such an array of synthesised soul,
poppers-friendly floor-fillers and banging techno-abstractions
wasn't out there enough, there was
even an appearance from Maggie K De Monde, one time chanteuse with
1980s one-hit wonders Swans Way. Best of all was
the opening rush of House diva Crystal Waters' piano-led soul-gospel
anthem, Testify.
As joyous as such a package remains, listening to a whirl of high-energy musical gymnastics on a drizzly Tuesday afternoon can be pretty exhausting if there's no dance-floor in sight. Perhaps it was with this in mind that Ft. Excursions has been invented. Styled as Ft.'s 'little sister' and released on white vinyl in a limited edition of 300 for this year's Record Store Day, its contents are designed for the sort of after parties where the sun is cracking the flags both inside and out. Where the original album is a jaunty hands-in-the-air extravaganza, this new set of constructions sees a welter of producers throw off-kilter googlies into a mix designed to keep the come-down at bay.
The opening Sunset
Dub mix of Monday Morning
Sunshine, finds
Western Isles based chanteuse Jean Honeymoon coming
to woozy blissed-out life after a long weekend siesta before the
party kicks in once more. Dickson has just co-produced Honeymoon's
first solo record, Beginnings, and here adds a bass-heavy pulse that
courses throughout the album, as choir, strings and harps conspire to
suggest Honeymoon is nestling into some celestial dreamland where
angels play.
The original squelch
of Atomium finds dub specialist Ray
Mang and Horse Meat Disco's Severino
ramping up the
synthesised handclaps
with some busy bongos and old-school House melodies on their Dub
Revision of the Bootsy Collins fronted
track. Collins himself free-associates his lascivious intentions over
the top of this by way of a set of hyper-delic chat-up lines.
Dressed up with science-fiction bump and
grind trappings, the song zooms this way and that before vocoder
starbursts nip in on the blind side. 'You can put your butt out in my
ash-tray, baby' indeed.
There are even more
rockets ahoy on the Omnichord Dub
version of Like Josephine Baker. Here,
David McAlmont's soaring vocal is wrapped
up in skittery beats laced with
other-worldly sprinkles that accelerate upwards from an
instrument previously embraced by Dickson on the
High Fidelity's second album, hinted at by its title of The
Omnichord Album. This featured a track
co-written with John Peel after Dickson gave an omnichord to the
legendary radio DJ for his sixtieth birthday. Here, the instrument's
addition makes for a trip-happy extended version on which McAlmont's
voice drops in and out of a bass-heavy stew
Dickson's original take on 18th featured Teenage Fanclub mainstay and the only member of Dickson's roster who is from the same musical pedigree, Norman Blake. If the song's shuffly beats already betrayed Dickson's indie-dance roots, French remixer Azaxx' Late Night Reprise heightens it even more. Blake's multi-tracked vocal is a melancholy downer wrapped up in a swirly-whirly groove that carries on dancing like its 1992 regardless.
Ft.'s
breakout crossover moment belonged to Testify,
on which Crystal Waters proved herself a
major vocal force over a mix of chapel house gospel piano and party
time beats. The In Flagranti Replay
is moulded into shape
here by Swiss-based beat-meisters
Alex Gloor and Sasha Crnobrnja. It burbles
and bounces with after-hours promise punctuated by deconstructed
echoes of gossamer melodies, before taking a back seat and letting
Waters' largely unadorned voice have its glorious day.
Yoko Ono's spoken
paean to joy that forms the basis of In Love
with Life
does away with the string-heavy melancholy
of its original form, and in its reworking by Midnight Records' Yam
Who? is transformed into a funkier Little
Fluffy Clouds for self-help
conceptualists.
The appearance of
Alan Vega on A Kiss Before
Dying had
already been lent a poignant weight by the
death of Suicide's iconic vocalist shortly after Ft
was released. The original song's organ
and wicka-wacka percussion suggested a downbeat crime caper set in a
post-punk NY dystopia, with its stentorian
chorales give it an elegiac classicist
edge. The Jackie House Bullets
Workout built
here by San Francisco disco deviants Honey Soundsystem strip
things back to an even greater sense of foreboding. Vega's
incantations are left to echo over each other, punching out urgent
little epistles like some street corner sooth-sayer
in this starkest intimation of mortality.
Jungle drums usher
in the Le Mongrel Midnight Trip
take on You're Just Another Song,
before Little Annie slinks in. To a backdrop of red velvet strings,
the club-land legend peels back the drapes to purr with the
nonchalance of an off-duty diva over an arrangement that fleshes out
the brooding minimalist techno of the original.
As sublime a
bank-holiday ball as there is to be had here, five of Ft.'s
original tracks by Ms De Monde, Schneider,
Soft Cell and Apollo 440 electronicist Dave Ball, Paris Grey of
Detroit techno legends Inner City and German diva Billie Ray Martin
remain untouched by Dickson and co's sonic alchemy. The scope for a
second volume of Ft. Excursions, then,
is plentiful. Same time next year,
perhaps?
Product, April 2017
ends
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