SO I BECAME TODD TERJE…
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[6.82]
Alfred Soto: Lindstrøm needed schlock, Terje needed ethereality, so let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments, except one: reciting a list over a dance track is a cue for an Italodisco chant a la “Paninaro,” not to fade it.
[7]
Renato Pagnani: Lindstrøm had a down-then-up 2012; February’s Six Cups of Rebel had pomp and ambition but suffered from a lack of direction (having no direction is not a direction, after all). It felt as if Lindstrøm had become uncomfortable with being comfortable, but the brand of spectacle in which the Norwegian producer feels most at home doing is a more composed sort — he’s always been more Nicolas Winding Refn than Michael Bay. But November‘s Smalhans was a return to form, not a back-to-basics effort as much as a rejuvenated restoration of normalcy, and Todd Terje’s hand in that should not be overlooked. Although he only mixed the album, his fingerprints are all over Smalhans, and “Lanzarote” is a sign that both artists realize the mutual benefit in continuing their collaboration. Terje brings a sense of propulsion and funnels Lindstrøm’s inclination toward diffusion to a specific point on the map; Lindstrøm’s cosmic optimism compliments Terje’s playfulness, and somehow “Lanzarote” manages a looseness with down-the-sights precision.
[8]
Daniel Montesinos-Donaghy: Lindsterje’s “Lanzarote” is imbued with a nautical sense of discovery. A ping-ponging beat is absorbed by a floating bassline, navigates around primary-colour arpeggios and pitch-shifted percussion solos then dives deep: sleazy 11th hour toasting that opens up the song’s world before fading into nothingness, mistakenly sending signals of worldliness instead of accepting that Toddstrøm are looking for time to decide where the song will go next. It feels incomplete. Surely these two have more to show than the top of a seabed.
[6]
Will Adams: Techy, twitchy house that meanders beautifully across keys. I particularly love the ending, when surprise vocals fade in to deliver possibly the most fun city call-out ever. Make it a game! I wanna go, I wanna go, I wanna go to Cedar Rapids. I wanna go to Kansas City. I wanna go to Arizona. I wanna go to Madagascar…
[7]
Ian Mathers: I was seriously all set to give this one a [10] and talk about how it’s better than “Inspector Norse” (which is good, but I didn’t quite get what all the fuss was about), simply because of the perfection of the first seven minutes: an endless groove that I wouldn’t mind having on a loop for an hour or more, and that’s without chemical assistance. But then we get the goofy ending, which might be mildly charming, but absolutely kills/ignores what I loved about the rest of the track. Is there an edit without the vocals?
[8]
Crystal Leww: This is really fun up until the last minute and a half when the “I wanna go to”‘s start and the sparkly joy of the first seven minutes loses its glimmer fast.
[5]
Brad Shoup: Starts in a pleasant holding pattern, adds a touch of camp, lets sit, then a lightly comic travel wishlist to finish. I’m certain I’m missing about a dozen in-jokes.
[4]
Iain Mew: The slightly plastic feel and sense of chivvying excitement give it the appearance of an unearthed theme for a holiday TV show in the days when Lanzarote would have been a new destination for most. The list of all of the locations said show can’t afford to go to yet doesn’t do much as an ending, leaving as the highlight the synth runs which have an enjoyable touch of the “Vospominanie” about them.
[6]
Kat Stevens: Did you know the canary is named after the Canary Islands and not the other way around? My week in Tenerife post-A-Levels was definitely a formative experience in terms of units of alcohol consumed, but it was also the first time I’d visited a proper techno club. I absolutely hated it — it was too loud, I didn’t know any of the songs and there were no drinks offers, unlike the other discos and bars our friendly reps ushered us into. I’d rather have been in the open-air place that played a limited roster of S Club 7, Spiller and Madison Avenue (nowhere played Elastica or even Nirvana, so I had to make do). Perhaps I would have had a better techno experience 250 miles to the east, over in Lanzarote? I dunno, I only learned that fact about the canary on this week’s Only Connect and my snobby attitude towards dancing in 2000 was about as mature and sensible as my drinking.
[8]
Anthony Easton: Like watching Fred Astaire going down the grand staircase but sleazier. The electronic diminuendo that barely ties this together is fantastic; it’s too bad the rest of the song doesn’t match its abstract beauty.
[7]
Sabina Tang: For the past week I’ve been using this as pre-game music for Igloofest: in other words, to create and sustain a mood that’ll voluntarily carry me out into a -20 Celsius outdoor rave wearing two hats, two scarves, two pairs of woolly socks, and clutching a 750ml metal can of Sapporo that one has to chug before it freezes solid. Do I wanna go to Lanzarote, or Puerto Rico, or Tenerife, or any other exotic locale that arbitrarily maps to the tone/syllable count? You betcha. But this is the best dance track of January, and it works no matter the hemisphere or latitude.
[9]