Something in the air was rhythmified. It was static- charged. Electric. Flowin'. The scream: "Damn! Somebody's got it goin' on!"

Christ Almighty! It was Jason's cousin Stuey. Stuey's reputation was that he always knew where the great party was happening, and this time we found each other completely by coincedence. "Stuey, ya goddamn maniac!" I shouted across the room.

"Hey, Bargathon, let me introduce you to my good friend Clifford Gilberto." Gilberto offered his hand, and I shook it. "Clifford, as you will soon find out, is 63 minutes of pure groove. An all-nite orgy aimed at the young and the getdown. This man's rhythm is all in your head. He can take it slow or he can ease it into overdrive. Shit, I've never heard anything so goddamned crazy. You want some coke?" "Hell, yes!" I replied instantly.

"Look, Gravytrain. I'm diggin' this cat's swing." Gilberto smiled politely. "The second you drop the needle on this man, it's clear who's in charge."

"Stuey, you're gonna have to slow down, man. What the fuck are you saying?"

"Alright. You remember that party at the Deadhead's house two years ago? The one where everyone was dancing to 'Unsolved Mysteries'? It ain't anything compared to what Cliffy throws down."

"Is he a DJ or what?"

"I don't know what the fuck he is, but he's got it goin' on!!" He grabbed Gilberto and ran upstairs. I began searching for answers, and it was then that I opened my ears to what was happening on the stereo. The wildest beats that jazz never gave birth to, the flanged funkboard, the super- charged basslines. It had to be Ninja Tune.

I found the jewel case. "The Clifford Gilberto Rhythm Combination-- I Was Young And I Needed The Money: 14 Junk Classics." It was a Ninja Tune release, alright. And you could hear it in the music. The sound was completely fresh-- like jazzy jungle with personality. It was clearly influenced by recent drum-n-bass visionaries like Amon Tobin and µ-Ziq, but it also had incredible energy. It changed gears every ten seconds, jumping genres in ways I'd never imagined.

From the laidback, hot- summer- day groove of "Restless," to the violent rhythmic convulsions of "I Wish I Was A Motown Star" to the smoky jazz lounge sounds of "Ms. Looney's Last Embrace," 14 Junk Classics is a nightmarish rollercoaster ride through the nether regions of chaos. And that's just within the first 20 minutes.

All 14 of these songs would be standouts on any well- established jungle artist's full- length. The fact that they're all on one guy's debut is downright amazing. Gilberto steps in and lets whatever's gonna happen just happen. The results are phenomenal-- like stepping into the mind of a music- obsessed paranoid schizophrenic. I don't know what kind of Rhythm Combination Gilberto's referring to, but I know I don't want to piss it off.

Right about then, Jason arrived. "Ayyyy! Ryan!"

"What's happenin', brother?"

"I don't know, I just got here. Stuey's in labor, though. I don't know what the fuck he's giving birth to, but it looked kind of like Chris Harpster."

"Oh my god!"

-Ryan Schreiber