Since its inception, UK techno has been determined to out-Detroit Detroit. From the implant fantasies of B12's Electro-soma and Insync vs. Mysteron's Android Architect, to the cyber sheen of Justice's jungle (always more Detroit than Denmark Hill), British techno exponents, when not attempting to surpass the original sound, have always been conscious to pay homage to it. This is ironic, since the Motor City founders of the genre were actualizing their respect not only for Kraftwerk, but also for Sheffield-based industrial/synth-pop acts such as the Human League, Heaven 17, and the colossal Cabaret Voltaire.
The two members of Plaid, Ed Handley and Andy Turner, rode in on Warp's groundbreaking Artificial Intelligence compilation as members of Black Dog Productions. Many of the acts compiled on sampler have gone on to achieve greatness (Autechre's demo song was on the disc, as was-- in various disguises-- material by Richard D. James, Richie Hawtin, and the Orb). It's true that Black Dog Productions haven't survived to the present day, but this demise was not due to unoriginality or record company mergers: the third member of Black Dog, Ken Downie, pushed his obscure hip-hop/techno fusion too vigorously for Handley and Turner's tastes, and the personality clash caused Ed and Andy to break away and record on their own. However, the duo didn't totally discard b-boy-isms and throw-down attitude in their matchless version of techno.
Trainer is a two-disc archive of Plaid's deft manipulations of the techno blueprint, beginning with the Second Summer of Love (1989) and ending with the solidification of the IDM sound in 1995. Whether released under their Plaid, Balil, Atypic, or Turic monikers, let there be no doubt, Handley and Turner's achievements during these years are, to this day, astonishing. In fact, their albums subsequent to this period (1997's Not for Threes and 1999's Rest Proof Clockwork) sound slack by comparison.
The immediate benefit of Trainer is that it contains the long lost Mbuki Mvuki album. Originally released in 1991, the record's seven tracks broadly sketch the Plaid sound-- ambitronically modified, near-Latin rhythms are tightly locked by rock-steady hip-hop nous and a visionary Third Wave attitude. On that vida tecnologica vibe, "Scoobs in Colombia" wiggles its linen-panted Fania All-Star arse with such giddy joy that it stomps upon the po'-faced, furrowed-brow stereotype that's restricted so many techno artists' social lives. "Bouncing Checks" revels in a beatbox meltdown and a synth string stampede. Each maddeningly unquantized element totters on the brink of collapsing into a synthetic stammer.
1989's "Uneasy Listening" is pre-Chemical Brothers big-beat redrawn for a less flatulent, more cultivated audience. 1991's "Chirpy" is an edgy first draft for what would eventually become trip-hop. The classically Detroit "Prig" follows, juxtaposing Eno-esque ambient washes with piercing industrial stabs. You can imagine Derrick May grinding his teeth in annoyance at just how perfectly the two contrasting elements are blended. And just to confound Dr Alex Paterson, "Eshish" out-Orbs the Orb during its blissful, floating, far-too-brief four-minute run.
Trainer's second disc covers tracks recorded between 1992 and 1995, and one can clearly perceive the influence of electro and, significantly, jungle. Some chroniclers of techno have traced jungle's genesis to the Mbuki Mvuki album. And while I can't endorse that notion entirely, it's not without some appeal. Still, fanciful genealogical excursions take us away from the confident poise and-- I have to say it-- perfection of Plaid's work during these years.
As one skims Trainer's tracklist, two things are missing. One is a minor omission-- namely "Parasight," recorded for a Balil EP on Rising High Records, which remains one of the most emotional and compelling voyages of the Roland TB-303 to this day. But the other absence is far more significant: nowhere will you read the word "remix." The tracks here need no adjusting; they're as complete as one can imagine they could ever be. Whether recording as Plaid or as Balil, Atypic or Turic, Handley and Turner effortlessly welded the unpredictable to the accustomed. As the bathetically titled Trainer bountifully demonstrates, Handley and Turner never succumbed to the pull of their influences throughout this rich period. And in so doing, they became one of the most influential bands of their genre.
