We sat around the table, eating vegetarian tacos, with little blurbs of that mysterious, meat- like filling falling off our chins. She asked, "Do you think there's a hell?" I thought of Dario G's Sunmachine. I didn't think listening to it was like a living hell-- surely not-- but by my reasoning, the existence of a hell suggests the existense of its counterpart, heaven. And, I'd been thinking that Dario G might just be playing in some secluded corner of heaven somewhere-- probably in a bookshop run by a pimple- faced youth whose life had been torn away before the magic of a woman's touch had introduced him into the the kingdom of depravity. Yeah, that's it.

Sunmachine is 10 good- hearted, lightweight techno tracks completely devoid of unpleasantness or pretense. They come across as naive, happy trounces through the imagination without the influence of, say, crystal meth. More akin to funky 1970s party-on tracks (such as Kool & The Gang's "Celebration" or Wild Cherry's "Play That Funky Music") than your average house music, Sunmachine is clearing up my pimples faster than a magic blackhead remover. Though my erectile tissue is still flaccid, I find my feet tapping together and my head bobbing up and down.

Sunmachine is dance without the sexuality, dance without the weird aggression, dance without the sweat. It's Sup-R Sweet smacks of rhythm, age-old beats spiced with new age instruments, and a consistent energy that doesn't account for any tomorrow. It doesn't challenge the listener and won't amaze anyone with its originality, but it gets an A for enthusiasm and smiling sheen. I can just picture the sunshine falling on the shoulders of that heavenly bookshop youth, his nose buried deep in The Catcher In The Rye, with Dario G playing in the background. He'd look up, realize where he is, let his hands fall to his sides and take flight... into a brighter now. Yeh, dude.

-James P. Wisdom