It starts well, with some nice African rhythms and vocals over a dancey four-to-the-floor beat. But by track two it’s begun to sound like the demonstration setting on a fancy synthesiser (the one noble exception being ‘The Chant’ featuring Tura Artura). So things click and whiz and whirr and squelch and swell and I tap my toe in a Pavlovian response. Okay you can dance to it, and you can do plenty of other repetitive mind numbing tasks to it, so I suppose if I was instituting some sort of technocratic slave state it’d be my music of choice (and the waffling vocal samples about “the rhythm of life” on ‘Life Has A Rhythm’ do suggest programmatic mind control). Maybe I’m just not as familiar with the clubbing oeuvre as once I might have been, but some truths are eternal: making music to please monged dancers is like making food for drunk people. It’s not really a challenge. Up your game, lads.