The creation of disco was one of its most exciting phases. In New York in the early 1970s, you could go to the Loft and hear David Mancuso play anything from the funky Spanish rock of Barrabas to the soon-to-be B-boy breaks of Babe Ruth's "The Mexican". Over at the Gallery, Nicky Siano might've been spinning the Bahaman rhythms of "Exuma, The Obeah Man" or the soulful storytelling of Bill Withers' "Harlem", alongside such Philadelphia Sound standards as MSFB's "Love Is the Message". Other innovators-- Larry Levan, Tom Moulton, Walter Gibbons, Arthur Russell, and more-- also helped define disco without limiting it to the most common definition.
All that's not to point out that Calvin Harris didn't create disco, because, duh. He didn't create electro-house, either, but in a year full of cranked synths, proud hedonism, and Daft Punk, the UK music-buying public has decided to befriend the Scottish producer and singer-songwriter. At only 23, Harris enjoys the kind of Cinderella success story that recently drew British reality TV audiences to singing cell-phone salesman Paul Potts: After a move to London failed to provide a job, Harris went back to stacking supermarket shelves in his hometown of Dumfries until a MySpace page brought major-label executives a-calling. Harris has since scored two top 10 UK singles and recorded with Kylie Minogue.
James Murphy shouldn't worry about losing his edge just yet. DFA's dance-punk figures prominently in Harris' cheeky full-length debut, I Created Disco, which peaked at #8 in the UK this summer and recently arrived in America. So do the Daft-punk'd electro-house of fellow Scottish producer Mylo and the same "borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered 80s" that inspires Montreal/New York electrofunk duo Chromeo. Trouble is, Harris has only one move, and it's not even convincing. But it's all in good fun, supporters protest-- sorry, not enough fun, and stop bogarting that stash.
Oh, sure, plenty of great music can be superficial. I Created Disco mistakes superficiality for greatness. There's very little variation between (or even within) tracks: a vapid vocal hook usually repeats over a simple bass groove and drum programming, with kitschy falsetto and synths, either zapping or distorted. Boringly often, there are boilerplate references to drugs: "Drug-taking at my place," Harris boasts matter-of-factly on latest single "Merrymaking at My Place", which repeats "my house" enough times for LCD Soundsystem's Murphy. Nearly as often, there are equally perfunctory references to the opposite sex. On previous single "The Girls", Harris follows the Rolling Stones' "Some Girls" template about as regrettably as Louis XIV did on 2005's "Finding Out True Love Is Blind", except with Scottish attempts to sing like Murphy singing-uh like Mark E. Smith-uh, instead of American attempts to sing like Marc Bolan. "I like them Asian girls/ I like them mixed-race girls," Harris explains.
I'm usually just outside of Barstow in the album's neon desert when the first single, "Vegas", kicks in. It's got both drugs and girls. I know this because Harris sings, "I've got my drugs, and my stuff, and my pills (when I go to Vegas)/ I've got my girls and my boys and my girls". In a blind taste test with follow-up UK hit "Acceptable in the 80s", four out of five of coke heads would make the choice of a new generation-- though there isn't much difference between the two tracks other than the words in Harris' apathetic vocals.
Between the singles, I Created Disco is padded with repetitive, frequently instrumental tracks. Reassuringly, the guy at least seems to have a sense of humor; the spoken-word title track makes it clear he's only goofing about disco-creating and possibly everything else. The problem is, he's not particularly witty, or, even with knowledge of his overnight success story, remarkable. Witness "Colours", which over-extends Harris' tired 80s obsession by suggesting you wear neon instead of black-and-white.
When Harris ventures into a wah-wah slow jam on "Love Souvenir", the slight reprieve is appreciated, even though it ultimately turns into another four minutes of aimless looping. Finale "Electro Man" suggests the young artist might one day reimagine himself as an urbane, Hot Chip-style romantic. Still, it's not sophistication Harris requires, necessarily. The fatal flaw of I Created Disco isn't that Harris works with a style he didn't create, it's that-- after a 2007 in which LCD Soundsystem matched Murphy's head for hips with heart, when Justice rendered synths metallic and Simian Mobile Disco made them child's play-- Harris reduces pop's limitless possibilities to one-joke self-parody, his youth his most distinguishing characteristic, an unremembered yesterday always more vibrant than today. You know "Crank That (Soulja Boy)", lately the biggest American single? That dude was born in the 90s. The kids really are coming up from behind.
