There was a time when you could walk into your average record store and find the singles section by spotting the big block of black rows. These rows signaled the whereabouts of the Ds and tended to eat up a disproportionate space of the singles section. In 2004, the Mute label condensed all of these releases into Remixes 81-04, which itself was ironically (or fittingly) presented in multiple versions. This particular version is a triple-disc set that attempts to function as a representative sampling of Depeche Mode's innumerable remixes. It does an admirable job, making a point to highlight glorified extended versions and radical reworkings alike. François Kevorkian, for instance, uses his invaluable understanding of the inner workings of both disco and dub to extend and sensitively tweak "Personal Jesus" for the dancefloor, transforming it into something that he would likely spin while DJing. Air, however, alter "Home" to the point where it sounds like one of their own moody, downcast productions -- Martin Gore plays guest instead of host. One of the most thrilling remixes shows no respect to the source material; Adrian Sherwood's decimation of "People Are People," from 1984, is a succession of jackhammering beats, agitated noise fragments, bizarre vocal interjections. In order to entice hardcore fans who already have the old remixes on the original single releases (or the six exhaustive box sets), a handful of new remixes were commissioned. Most of these appear in the latter half of the third disc, and at least half deserve to be in the company of the better-known reshapes. "Clean" is turned into a bristly acid gallop by Colder, and the new rhythm winds up coming close to mirroring "Personal Jesus." Rex the Dog reaches all the way back to "Photographic," providing layer upon layer of bursting synth. Ironically (or fittingly), Paul Morley -- who, as one of the tricksters behind the ZTT label (Frankie Goes to Hollywood, Propaganda), came up with the idea that you could never have a track remixed too many times -- pens the liner notes.
Remixes 81-04
As far as I'm concerned, the remix enjoyed its commercial and artistic peak in 2003. R. Kelly's brilliant "Ignition (Remix)" was self-aware, witty, eminently danceable, and unerringly fun-- in short, everything the original "Ignition" was not. Kelly proved to John Barth-lovin' meta-geeks what pop and dance fans already knew: that remixes can, in fact, be more accessible and successful than the original singles and album cuts.
Kelly broke the mold; with Remixes 81-04, Depeche Mode take credit for setting it. Yes, there's finally someone to blame for "Beetlebum (Moby's Minimal House Mix)" and Bush's Deconstructed! "The remix story of Depeche Mode can be viewed as a history of the remix," Paul Morley crows in the liner notes, perhaps forgetting the whole of Jamaican music. But as this sprawling three-disc set attests, DM's relationship with the remix-- from the 12-inches of the band's putative Vince Clarke years to a new collaboration with one of the Cro-Magnons in Linkin Park-- is both long-term and encompasses everything from electro-dub to extended dance remixes to hip-hop to house.
In some cases, this record reminds us how technologically far remixes have come from the days of simply splicing and extending a song's break or adding a heavier foot to its bass (see: Daniel Miller's fine but rudimentary 1981 "Just Can't Get Enough" remix). Other extended 12-inches don't fair as well: "Get the Balance Right" is stretched like a Navigator with unremarkable instrumentals, and uber-producer Flood piles the worst elements of sophistipop balladry onto "A Question of Lust".
Thankfully, at least a few of the remixes add some interesting twists, mirroring the shift over the past two decades toward artists using a remix to transform an original recording rather than just tweak it. DJ Shadow augments the emotional entreaty of "Painkiller" with classic soul samples and driving bass. Dave Clarke's "Dream On" builds upon gentle acoustic guitar arpeggios and fake strings with nary a hint of the original. A mix of "In Your Room" by Johnny Dollar and Portishead scratches and smolders like vintage mid-1990s trip-hop (it was released in 1994, after all).
Not all of the more transformative remixes succeed, however. Although DJ Muggs' "Freelove" mix is ultimately flawed, its hard-edged, guitar-based approach offers a promising premise for future remixers-- why not dress DM's synth-pop in the costumes of other genres until you find the right fit? Then there's the car crash at the end of the tunnel, Underworld's misguided "Barrel of a Gun" remix. I forget all my mid-90s micro-genre names, but there must be one for nine brain-dead minutes of window-rattling 180bpm drum loops. 2ff7e9595c
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