The bass lines march, evil, cold, precise, punctuated by textures so familiar they seem to burst more from the collective pop id than any vintage electronic hardware – handclaps, record scratches, whistles, delay-soaked barks, et al.
This is a vision of a dark, calculated 80’s, a vision that feels truer to the real 80’s-esque hell world we currently endure than any imagined past.
Club Music Vol. I is a satisfying manifestation of pop’s retromaniacal infinite loop…getting darker and darker with each rotation. Like the hammer and sickle glaring ambiguously from the cover, Club Music could strike you as revisionist, utopian, or something much, much grimmer.