Could you care less what Groove Armada listen to at home? Such is the question posed by this edition in the series of at-home-with-[insert name of flavor of the month dance act] compilations, Back to Mine. Previously, Danny Tenaglia rifled through his dustier boxes and tempted us with nothing too revelatory. Faithless, in the most recent installment, reveal that they listen to little else but Faithless tracks and the band members' solo efforts. But even before you press play on your hi-fi-- with one glance at the Chardonnay-quaffing track listing-- you'll yawn, collapse, and curse yourself for shelling out beer money for such meager slurry.

Just how self-absorbed can Tom Findlay and Andy Cato be that they start with their own poo-stik acoustic rework of A Tribe Called Quest's "Description of a Fool?" Granted, they're not as solipsistic as Faithless, but you'd be hard-pressed not to agree that the two have long since begun to believe all the hype about their band.

From then on, all you have to do is imagine the least offensive, least un-Groove Armada-ish records you could hear if you were, against all the odds, invited back to their pad. By the way, does this compilation really imply that Findlay and Cato live together, like Bert and Ernie? Hmm...

So it is with no astonishment that track #2 is a hugely stringed Barry White number ("Playing Your Game, Baby"), trendily followed by some Mancunian hip-hop courtesy of Grand Central Records. While I'm thrilled to hear BBG's summery "Snappiness," I can't say the same for Mica Paris' "I Should've Known Better."

Rather than moving out of (or getting off) their tight little box and spinning some psychedelic nuggets or a snippet of a Richard Strauss tone poem, the lads persist in flying their faker flag higher and higher. Al Green's less than shamanic take on "Relight My Fire" is as forgettable as the woefully Ibizan dreck that constitutes Schmoov's "Destination (Beachtowel Remix)."

So I'm disappointed-- what did I have a right to expect? Well, seeing as how one of these guys is a fairly accomplished trombonist, I would have liked to hear at least a little Curtis Fuller, J.J. Johnson, or Kai Winding-- 'bone players with more soul than most of the copyist slags compiled here. But I'm being naïve. Back to Mine: Groove Armada is just another foot soldier in the corporate army dedicated to removing all that's incendiary and revolutionary about modern music. I can give no reason for the record's existence-- it's the equivalent of a token "style" article in an airline magazine, copies of which are kept by the sick bag without irony.

Groove Armada, judged by this compilation, are musically conservative and infuriating. If I ever had the fortune to be invited back to theirs, the least I'd hope to find propped up against the turntable would be a dog-eared copy of Gram Parsons' Grievous Angel. I'd then have a nice little chat with them about how they spent the money this obnoxious guff netted them.

-Paul Cooper