Babytalk, Watussi — Shaking Moving Dancing People: The Stickydisc Records Anthology (DFA)
Somewhere amid the late-aughts haze that followed the imperial heights of their DFA Compilation #2 peak but before This Is Happening and the perpetual dad-rock victory lap that’s been going on since LCD Soundsystem’s return, there was a transitory moment for Brooklyn’s coolest record-releasing conglomerate. Hot Chip had been sold off to EMI and Astralwerks; The Rapture were on Universal Motown; Black Dice had headed for Paw Tracks. In their place, Hercules and Love Affair, Shit Robot and Syclops had records; Holy Ghost! and Still Going were emerging; Death From Abroad was a precarious thing unto itself; Hockey Night actually wanted to be Free Energy.
Caught in this flux was Eric Broucek, DFA’s resident engineer. While Jonathan Galkin worked out the future of the label’s lineup, Broucek carved out studio time for himself alongside another DFA orbiter, Morgan Wiley. The results were released to no fanfare in limited form on the fleeting Stickydisc Recordings and have finally been compiled, in an ironic twist and to a much wider audience, by the very label from which he sought to break.
Stickydisc was a low-key operation of Broucek’s (MySpace) design. The lore is limited, and there were but three official releases: STDs 001, 002 and 003, each 12" vinyl singles. But as this compilation shows, the work he and Wiley — whose name might be familiar to fans of pre-cake-throwing Dim Mak (he was in Automato) or New York nü-disco devotees (Jessica 6) — did in their brief time together over the space of two years need not be cluttered with narrative.
Broucek rode mostly solo for the first two releases — and, it turns out, one additional track previously unreleased of comparable quality called “Enough” that serves as the closer for this comp — as Babytalk. The first of which was seven-minute “Keep on Move,” a spartan italo number with the title sung on repeat under deep echo. This kind of cosmic lo-fi approach was a through-line for these songs, with production operating at a restrained register that could just as easily have been from 1978 as from 2008. On the flip was an exploratory remix courtesy Six-Leg Friend, who was likely also Broucek given the moniker has never featured anywhere else and Eric’s the only name credited on the vinyl; its contrast with the original mix recalls the “Crass” and “Pretentious” versions of LCD’s “Yeah” 12” from a few years before. Following “Keep on Move” was “Chance,” which was probably the highest-profile release of the three given it featured a Hercules and Love Affair remix right when Andy Butler was breaking through as the big name of DFA’s second wave. The original mix features some additional keys from Wiley, which makes me wonder if that’s why the B2 is a Babytalk remix of … Babytalk. For his own part, Butler adds more depth to the percussion and foregrounds the vocals; you won’t be surprised to (re)learn it sounds like one of those early Hercules singles.
Broucek and Wiley teamed up in earnest as Watussi for what turned out to be Stickydisc’s final release. “Purple Moon” runs on squelching and swirling synth lines with increasingly clear vocals here, and though James Murphy isn’t credited, that sure sounds like him in the same way that he was instantly recognizable in Shit Robot’s “Triumph.” Wiley turns in a dub mix for the compilation that’s also new. But the real reason you’re reading this review is the second song on that double a-side: “If All We Had Was Love” has been stuck in my head since I first discovered it as an mp3 on the dearly departed 20jazzfunkgreats blog. That mp3 was of such low quality that the song’s piano line was buried in the mix; Bob Weston’s remaster brings it up to match Carter Yasutake’s glorious trumpet. The deadpan vocals from which this compilation gets its title burst to life as the song swells to its peak, then descends just as gently. There was also some accidental magic in that mp3’s low quality because I misheard the title’s rejoinder for years: Instead of “If all we had was love / then that would be enough,” it’s actually “then I would give you up” — the complete opposite meaning. Either way, it remains one of the great underheralded dance tracks of this century.
DFA’s anthological effort comes on the back of James Murphy rediscovering the Stickydiscs’ power in recent live DJ sets, but the truth is that these songs’ potency has always been stealthy, just a little under the radar, not immediately eye-raising. They do, however, remain tracks to be savored, repeat listens rewarding more and more with some new detail emerging or a core earworm lodging in your brain indefinitely. The chance to do so, if you’ll excuse the pun, has never been better.
