How about this?! Some music to spill your brewski to! AK1200 wants y'all to party and mosh about and maybe even forget about your acne, and your piece of shit car that wouldn't attract bird poot, let alone a fine piece o' coed ass. But he also wants you to better yourself. He wants talent to be recognized.

Because of AK1200's motivational therapy, you'll soon be throwing out that Best of Creedence tape your older brother made for you in an attempt to educate you that David Matthews Band can't jam for shit and that John Popper belongs at Jenny Craig instead of the Pasadena Rosebowl. If you don't pay heed to the knowledge that AK1200's going to drop on you, you deserve all the Sublime and Blink 182 you can suck up.

By paying close attention to AK1200's educational program, you can escape from being a self- hating insensitive male and social homophobe. You can count a woman as a friend and see deeper into her than her "fine rack." You can wear a suit and tie and not feel that you're in a zone of non-being. You can throw out your $8 fake Birkenstocks and desist from wearing t-shirts that declare you to be the proud owner of "one mother of a johnson." AK1200 wants all of this for you. But first, buy Lock and Roll, his second mix compilation, and mull over your life while thrashing about to his selection of hippity- hoppety jump-up drum-n-bass.

Your ailing psyche will seem calmed and whole after Aphrodite's two- step remix of A Tribe Called Quest's "1nce Again" rips through the echoing chambers of your mind. Or after Aphrodite's Moving Shadow label mates, Aquasky, go body- drilling during "Sonix" with sub- bass depth charges and a musical rotovator. As if that's not enough to remove your fear of impotence, Danny Breaks' "Definition" proves that the British make the toughest, most fucked up jungle on the planet. (As if more proof were needed!)

And this fact pisses AK1200 off to no end. In Lock and Roll's liner notes, AK1200 declares that he is determined to bring "proper recognition to not just America, but to American artists." Now, I have to question the insinuation that America as a geo- political entity needs recognition. There are children growing up in the loamy fields of rural France dressing in Michael Jordan t-shirts and dreaming of living in a New York apartment like "Friends" do. Does this DJ seriously think that the famished millions in Eritrea don't long for the tons of good food that America's bulimics puke up every day? But as for recognizing homegrown drum-n-bass talent, America's got some sizable issues to work on.

Too many cuts on Lock and Roll fit the same formula: a jump-up rhythm track, a bit of turntable scratching, a dumbed- down Ed Rush analog- fueled bass line that winds round for the length of the cut, and topped off at points with a female vocalist faking orgasm. AK1200 has got to educate American drum-n-bass artists that there's no secret to producing a jungle choon that rinses out eardrums and mashes it up grizzly.

The British are so accomplished at this because they remember that at the core of this music is dub reggae. On Lock and Roll, the only reggae- ish track is Jeffee's "Ranger," which features a toaster encouraging the crowd to "flash your lighter an' rip up dancehall." This is the kind of stuff Birmingham's Formation Records were putting out in '92. While not always on an upward trajectory, the British scene has moved on since those days. For every Photek there's an Adam F. But at least on balance, the British are moving the form on. America, however, neglects Trenchtown in favor of Brooklyn. In other words, American drum-n-bass replaces reggae with hip-hop. And most of the time the results sound, at best, like Wu-Tang Clan at 78 rpm. This, my little chickadees, is not what's required.

Reggae provides the irresistible lilt while dub provides the breath of form that allows artists to pioneer; hip-hop, as every street corner mo'fo knows, is as straitjacketed as Nashville country. There are rules to be obeyed, respec' to be paid. Shit! Lee Scratch Perry, Yabby You, and Scientist knew nothing of rules when they rigged up echo chambers to their four- track Ampex reel- to- reel machines and manually performed sonic alchemy that even today defies explanation. The closest hip-hop has come to such experiments is turntablism, which in most cases errs towards guitar wankery (and after that cobblers Psyence Fiction album, DJ Shadow should hang his head in shame). Occasionally, an adventurous, no- wank turntablist like DJ Disk and his blinding El Stew project pop up, but they're an incredible rarity.

At least AK1200 didn't select any Crystal Method or Atomic Babies tracks as examples of homegrown talent. But then again, he didn't drop in any Matmos or Los Res weirdtronica, either. In fact, he's true to his word-- you get strictly drum-n-bass and no- breaks tomfoolery. As for AK1200's mixing, well... it's up to par. But nowadays, there's software to keep you on form. Lordy! If Boy George can mix proficiently, anybody should be able to.

But mixing aside, Lock and Roll lacks dynamism. AK1200 allows for no peaks and no valleys. We all know that you should pretty much avoid the valleys, but this disc just keeps rolling along an unchanging plateau for 70+ no- risk minutes. It's long enough and safe enough for your frat boy within to forget his idiosyncratic woes and homogenize with his bro's, then. Pump up the keg, and pour me a brew. I'm through educatin'!

-Paul Cooper