What the fuck is this? Where are the goddamned guitars? This is the sound of Disco Charlie sucking a dick and falling asleep-- it's either wall to wall drum machines or a fistful of Yanni. I bet these guys don't comb their hair, either.

Today's kids have been molested by techno, and not just since Prodigy slipped a hand down their pants. Remember Soft Cell? Depeche Mode? Jesus Christ, we may as well let anybody have a record contract! "This is Dave Hilton. He whistles and can clap." Be sure to get me a t-shirt when you swing by the show.

The Orb are two guys named Alex Patterson and... I'm not sure. Oates? He's like Oates, as in "Hall and." He doesn't get to do the scissor dance. Or maybe, like Oates, he's really the man with the plan. Oates could've been the brains, and Hall the beauty. Who knows? At any rate, these guys've been at it since 1990 and have turned techno on its ear. No barre chords, no anthems, just a few beats and a whole lotta chill, leaving me no choice but to not rock out with my cock out.

Still, I like it. It has that song from the Volkswagon commercial (better known to the masses as "Little Fluffy Clouds") and I know I heard another track in a different commercial. Maybe it was a soda commercial-- I don't remember. Nonetheless, they're both here along with some other music that becomes quite palatable... while on drugs. I really hate to stereotype or pigeonhole or any of that other negative bullshit levelled at me and my gross generalizations, but it's true. The rhythms burble, the samples sprout, the synths get synthy and the cows come home to load fat bongs and sew another patch on the fat pants. When all's said and done, you wake up horny and begging for more, just as you have for the past ten years of the Orb's Floyd-icious existence.

The Orb. Just like Technotronic, but without the inept rapping.

-Jason Josephes