Four years have passed since Fluke released Risotto, a decent but ultimately forgettable attempt to cash in on the fleeting big-beat bandwagon. After a few years of flirting with mainstream success, courting appearances on MTV's "Amp," and landing spots in several soundtracks and commercials, the trio seemed certain to drop off the press radar for good.
But the sudden resurgence of Daft Punk, whom most critics had left for dead after five years of silence, showed that comebacks in the club circuit were entirely possible-- some groups work slower than others, but the best ones are never forgotten. Other bygone groups followed suit, emerging from the woodwork to milk whatever was left of their fading legacies. The Crystal Method have now blighted the world with a second record, and Fluke, who couldn't be bothered to write anything new for the occasion, have pieced together a "best-of" retrospective.
What happens to a group when the money and inspiration runs out, and suddenly, they could have sworn there was, like, at least two ounces of weed left last time they checked? This is it: Progressive History X, all your favorite hits from Fluke's illustrious, if not totally insignificant, career.
The singles on this anthology date back to 1988, a time when people thought ecstasy was good for you, so they didn't pay much attention to the music. When demand for quality is low, the supply curve usually follows, and these tunes seem tailored for an undiscriminating audience. "Thumper!," the oldest song in the mix, just comes off sounding dated and flat. Fluke add a pinch of jazzy bossa-nova flavor to their 4/4 formula, but the rhythms are predictable, the cheap samples come straight out of the box, and "Thumper!" drags on for six interminable minutes. Perhaps it's unfair to judge a 13-year-old song by today's standards; but by 1988, Tangerine Dream had already charted much braver territories, 808 State had released Newbuild, and Aphex Twin had composed half of Selected Ambient Works: 85-92.
A catchy refrain can't save "Philly" from the same mediocrity. Though more melodically engaging than the rest of the trio's early singles, the song's stale Casio synths and unbearably tacky vocals reference outmoded influences, hinting at traces of Calloway and C&C; Music Factory. Contrary to Progressive History X's rather pretentious title, tunes like "Thumper!" and "Philly" suggest that Fluke were very much a product of their era.
The evolution of time brought a modicum of improvement to their sound. "Bullet" and "Tosh," both taken from 1995's Oto, reveal new dimensions of depth previously unexplored in Fluke's repertoire. The dense, lysergic crescendo of "Bullet" stands out as Progressive History X's high point, but even this track seems generic and unremarkable against the musical backdrop of its time.
The bland selection of tracks culled from Risotto is perhaps this record's most disappointing fault. The best parts of Risotto were the pieces without words-- songs I'm sure Fluke hesitated to publish as singles for want of mass appeal. "Goodnight Lover" and "Amp" were actually top-notch big-beat tunes, but they're nowhere to be found on this anthology. Instead, we're stuck with the same boring "hits" Fluke have been pawning off on the public for the last four years: "Atom Bomb," "Absurd" and "Squirt." These songs rely on nearly identical instrumental arrangements, and their formulaic tedium numbs beyond belief. The vocals struggle to sound suave, but no degree of smoothness could sell lyrical drivel like, "Big yet unfamiliar/ Bigger than the biggest star/ Bigger, faster, very hard/ Bigger than the motor car." Progressive History X would have fared better by showcasing lesser-known instrumentals from Fluke's catalog.
As a retrospective, this album doesn't speak well for Fluke's cultural impact or historical relevance. They come off as fad-followers whose music never looked too far ahead of its time. Unless you can't get enough of yesterday's club anthems and don't crave currency in your musical tastes, I would caution you away from this purchase.
