Can 'Sacrilege' CD artwork

album // Sacrilege

spoon/mute records | spooncd39/40 | 1997

It's almost as if Daniel Miller, as 'executive producer' of this, the much-discussed Can remix project, knew that this double album would meet with a fair amount of consternation and disagreement; Miller's punk background has never been quite so obvious as it is on this album's title. On the whole, remix albums are pretty anathema to me, chiefly because they date so quickly - electronic music styles are in a constant state of flux, meaning that some of the styles displayed here (particularly the drum 'n' bass tracks) sound fairly redundant now.

Nevertheless, the package is well-executed, taking more of a reverential, tribute album tone than full 'remixes for cash' ethic, and as a survey of contemporary electronic acts from the time (mid/late 1990s), it's not bad. Not great, but not bad. If I had been trying to put together a list of influential acts from the time, I would maybe have steered away from, say, A Guy Called Gerald et al, but I also recall that at the time many acts refused, citing 'sacrilege' as their reason.

It's interesting that Miller did not call upon NovaMute to supply some of the more danceable tracks, or even some of the more seasoned remixers on the Mute label. That's not to say, however, that the Mute contingent is not well-represented: Bruce Gilbert, Holger Hiller (whatever happened to him?), 3P (also known as Peach - Pascal Gabriel and Paul Latham), and even Geffen defectors Sonic Youth make an appearance. Daniel Miller and Gareth Jones turn in an impressive mix of 'Oh Yeah' (which is also approached in typically unimpressive form by the consistently boring Secret Knowledge). Of the other Mute luminaries, Gilbert's mix is pure electroacoustic sonic designwork, tiny sounds and noises combining to create a miniature pallette of obscure off-cuts and clipped samples. 3P on the other hand, turn in one of the album's highlights with a fantastic electropop reworking of 'Yoo Doo Right'.

Elsewhere, the Orb offer up an excellent, pastorally serene take on 'Halleluwah', while Brian Eno - expectations upon whom were exceptionally high - would have been better off not bothering than turning in the mercifully brief career low that is his realising of 'Pnoom'.

Westbam offers quite a jaunty version of '......And More', while the 'Future Days' mix by Carl Craig and 'Father Cannot Yell' by Pete Shelley/Black Radio (engineered by PK) stand out as highlights, mining more electro-inspired themes.

The accompanying booklet is interesting, containing comments from the remixers (taking the form of tributes, how they approached their track, and even a much-needed grovelling apology from Eno), as well as short interviews with the members of Can themselves, including Michael Karoli, who passed away in 2001 (read my obituary here). Can were renowned for their rhythmic complexity (courtesy of Jaki Liebzeit) which lends itself perfectly to drum 'n' bass, but Karoli's guitar was highly influential and inventive too - unfortunately, at the time, remixing's approach rarely referenced or found time for guitar work, and therefore Karoli's seminal wrk only really finds major exposure in Sonic Youth's reverential 'Spoon', and Air Liquide's 'Flow Motion'. The latter is well worth a listen, repositioning the original with some grainy, scratchy noise to create a sleezy, funky hip-hop track that has stood the test of time pretty well.

Sadly marred by an over-exposure to drum 'n' bass (even Hiller & Miller fall foul of this), Sacrilege is however far from a wasted effort. That said, it does make you yearn from the originals, which at times actually sound more contemporary - some 6 years on - than some of these mixes. And therein lies the danger of this project. Or, if you are a cynic, you'll know that the remix album is just a marketing tool for selling the major product to a potential new audience.