A series of random subjects in top tenular list form. This month: The Greatest E Tunes

‍

1. JOE SMOOTH

‘Promised Land’ (DJ International)

To keep the legal eagles at bay, we should point out that Mr Smooth (who we suspect is a God-fearing Christian – after all, aren’t all Americans?) didn’t compose this under the influence and probably never intended it to be enjoyed that way. Nor do you have to be on one to enjoy it. You barely even need ears – it’s so good we get goose bumps just looking at the cover. Gospel is the primary external influence here, as Joe invites us all to change the world just by holding hands. And there’s the rub. No record encapsulated the feelgood properties inherent in great house and great ecstasy like ‘Promised Land’. And as that spirit was manifested by the sudden desire to make lifelong friends out of total strangers this stands tall as the ultimate huggy house anthem, even more so than Ce Ce Rogers’ ‘Someday’. ‘You and I will walk the land/And as one, and as one, we’ll take our stand/And the angels from above/Fall down and spread their wings like doves.’ Yes, yes, Lord, take me. And yes, thank you, we will have another. SY

2. STARDUST

‘Music Sounds Better With You’ (Roulé)

What came first, the record or the pill? We can’t really remember, but Stardust and Mitsubishis are as inextricably linked as chicken and eggs. Both lush and edgy, Bangalter and DJ Falcon’s classic harked back to the Good Ol’ Days by uniting in delight everyone from cool kids to glitz-whores to cheesemongers, even if they were now dancing in different venues. The House Nation winked knowingly as Benjamin Diamond sang ‘music sounds better with you’. Taking his cue, they stuck out their tongues, inserted a small white pill decorated with the three-pronged logo of the Japanese motoring company, took a gulp of water and danced all night. SY

3. TOGETHER

‘Hardcore Uproar’ (ffrr)

Just as you probably need to have experienced opium to get the full benefit of Coleridge’s ‘Kubla Khan’, you can’t understand ‘Hardcore Uproar’ without having heard it on E. In fact, many who did still swear it’s utter bobbins. Wild pianos, the ‘Assault On Precinct 13’ theme, a bleepy keyboard ideal for drawing invisible lines in front of your face and, of course, the gurning nutter who keeps going ‘hah-ang-ang-ang’. ‘Real’ heads said it weren’t ‘proper’, but Together didn’t care. The cheering crowd noises on the intro (another touch of genius) showed who they were aiming it at – the rave kids wanting a choon in tune with the irresistible energy of their dancing companions. SY

4. JOEY BELTRAM

‘Energy Flash’ (R&S)

Not all E tunes have to be lessons in fluffy, blissed-out huggyness. When New Yorker Beltram’s ‘Energy Flash’ first appeared in 1991 it was like a bolt from the blue. All malevolent beats, unrelenting sub bass and the most mental use of a 303 to date, it heralded a turn towards a darker, more caustic, path for techno and many of its devotees, but that didn’t prevent it being something of an E anthem. Insular rather than tactile, the fizzing, repeated mantra of ‘ecstasy, ecstasy’ lent the track a hypnotic, brooding quality that left many lost in the grip of a feverish frenzy exacerbated by those little tablets. JBt

5. THE BELOVED

‘The Sun Rising’ (East West)

Shoom has acquired the mythical status the 100 Club had during punk. Capacity: bugger all. Number of people who claim to have been: hundreds of thousands. One person we feel sure wasn’t lying is Jon Marsh, who overnight transformed his going-nowhere goth combo into the original 3am eternal dance band courtesy of this record. The sun could have been in a field near the M25 or, more likely, above an Ibizan beach, but one thing’s for sure – it wasn’t a natural high that kept him up till dawn. SY

6. SABRES OF PARADISE

‘Smokebelch II’ (David Holmes Remix) (Warp)

Remember how DJs used to boast of ‘taking you on a journey’, which, in practice, meant starting slow and building up to fast? There was more sense of adventure packed into Holmer’s odyssey, a record that touched on so many genres it’s practically a one-track set. By 1993 Balearic had become a bad joke, synonymous with shit records played badly under the cloak of open-mindedness. This is how it should have been done. Never giving in to trance abandon, it keeps returning to the piano sample, a beautiful snippet of romantic melancholy. This is the spirit of Cafe Del Mar, a 15-minute Ibizan holiday without leaving the comforts of your own couch. SY

7. SABRINA JOHNSON

‘Peace’ (East West)

‘YEEEEEAAAAHH!! YEAH! YEAH! YEAH!’ You knew straight away from the intro that you weren’t listening to (a) The Smiths or (b) anything on R&S. ‘Peace’ was a monster and also an ultimate end-of-nighter. All the elements that could instigate arms aloft, mass hugging and knees to buckle were all here: the ‘wouldn’t life be grand if we didn’t have wars an’ shit’ lyrics (‘Peace in the valley, peace in the city, peace in your soul’); the diva hollering her lungs out (known in the North as a ‘scream-up’); and pianos. Loads and loads of pianos. It was the perfect record for 1991 when folk took to playing inflatable guitars, shaking tambourines and dancing on bars. Why? They were peaced out of their tiny minds. The Chemical Brothers were huge fans of the scream-up and at their Glint parties in 2002 segued ‘Peace’ with ‘Star Guitar’.

Talking of which... JB

8. THE CHEMICAL BROTHERS

‘Star Guitar’

(Dusted/Virgin)

At the beginning of 2001 Tom'n'Ed – even their Christian names lend themselves to narc speak – began road-testing various works in progress. By far, the cut that caused the most dancefloor carnage was ‘Star Guitar’. Kicking off with what sounded like a cut-up air raid siren (always an ecstasy winner) raining down upon the exalted throng, it glided effortlessly into the swooshing breakdown whereupon all in attendance made like aeroplanes and basked in the glory of the track’s warm, reflective glow and its singularly unambiguous signature refrain of ‘You should feel like I feel/You should take what I take’. And there you have it; nostalgic, tinged with melancholy and soaked in joyous celebration – a proper recipe for a night on the Mick Mills. JBt

9. SUB SUB

‘Space Face’ (Ten)

They’re all grown up now and making ‘Sensible Rock’ as Doves, but is it entirely coincidental that this lot changed their name to match the most popular pill of the era? Not judging by this proto-rave monster, recorded two years before they hit the heights with ‘Ain’t No Love...’. Full of fierce drums, (teeth) grinding keyboards and even a bit of a bleep rubbing shoulders with the nice smiley soothing bit in the middle. The vocal sample everyone remembers is lifted from Kubrick’s ‘2001: A Space Odyssey’ (and if that’s not a drug giveaway my name’s Ebeneezer Goode). ‘My God, it’s full of stars,’ they said, gazing up in wonder. It would be boys, it’s the night sky. And while we’re at it the sea’s full of water and fields are full of grass. It’s, like, amaaazing. SY

10. HAPPY MONDAYS

‘Hallelujah’

(Oakenfold/Weatherall club mix) (Factory)

Ecstasy famously convinced previously floor-shy white kids that they could dance. It may even have convinced Shaun Ryder that he could sing (no, surely no drug could be that powerful). Having invented indie dance the year before with ‘Wrote For Luck’, the Mondays invited Oakenfold back to repeat the trick with their first proper hit. Oakey brought with him one Andrew Weatherall, who was probably responsible for the heavy bass and deathly slow tempo. The title was sped up to a squeak and sampled all over the place. At the time (late '89) the Mondays were at the height of their infamy and seemingly invulnerable. Unfortunately, this was before smack proved their undoing. SY

‍