Sound Check — Geoff Carter: Living a techno dream with Global Underground

Friday, May 5, 2000 | 9:27 a.m.

Geoff Carter's music column appears Fridays. Reach him at carter@vegas.com

I have a recurring dream. I've had it since I was a child. I never expect it; upon waking I only half-remember it. But it is real, and it has shaped my life.

It isn't a story, so much as a place: In my recurring dream, I get to see the City of the Future. It is a luminous, breathtaking place -- as strikingly beautiful as Grace Kelly. It smells better than a new car.

A dream is a dream, however. I'll never reach my City of the Future -- except on those few lucky nights that I manage to dream of it, and whenever I get a new Global Underground double-disc techno compilation. It's a brilliant buzz, holding those two discs' worth of future in my hands.

The Global Underground series captures a DJ's set from some exotic locale and presents it to the consumer as a full-fledged party in a jewel case -- a surprise package of deep-color photos, you-are-there stories, "fiction sounds" and pure adrenaline. This time out you're in Ibiza with Sasha, in Hong Kong with John Digweed, and in Buenos Aires, Argentina, with Dave Seaman.

Or perhaps you're in the future. These three DJs don't just move crowded dance floors, they transplant them -- place them into psychoactive sci-fi collages of organized chaos, sexy beats and mood-enhancing hum. The Global Underground series are not live sets per se, but compiled by the DJs involved with the idea of capturing the essence of their set. Whatever the case, you are there ... wherever they are.

Seaman's South American set is the most conventionally danceable. His ear for dirty funk is remarkable; every track in this 21-song set thumps with the timbre of an earthquake. Funk Function's "Empress Zero" stands out, as does Adamski's "One of the People." And any set that begins with Underworld's fabulous "Jumbo" has got to be a good one.

Seaman does his crowd-pleasing best. To dance to this set, even vicariously through the compilation, is to gain a loopy euphoria -- partially from the music, partially from shaking your booty to the brink of exhaustion.

Sasha, on the other hand, prefers to keep things cerebral. He's plainly an explorer, and in this set he reconnoiters new territory. Disc two, in particular, goes beyond the pale: He begins with BT's "Fibonacci Sequence," which sounds like it was grown in a test tube, and continues on through his own "Xpander," which should be the first song in space. By the time he gives BT another shot with "Mercury and Solace" you feel like you've been shot through a wormhole.

Digweed, on the other hand, seems to be all about enjoying all the benefits that flesh and blood have to offer. His Hong Kong set is mellower than the other two, and seems almost relaxing at first blush. Don't be fooled. He may start off with an invitation to kick back (he uses another Underworld track, the jazzy "Cups"), but before too long he's into cookers by Madder Face and Lexington Avenue, and is chugging along like a train.

There are many other pleasures to be gained from these compilations. The accompanying booklets read like a tiny issue of Conde Nast, telling each DJ's tale of foreign intrigue with cheeky gusto. Photos of local landmarks and sweaty clubbers and handsome graphic design more or less make every disc feel like a collectable -- like you've got the only one in the world. Almost better than new car smell.

There's one other funny little conceit -- the latitude and longitude of each city is provided in the booklet. It's cute, but hardly necessary. Each Global Underground disc imparts an unmistakable feeling of place ... even if that place is recognizable only from dreams.