George Evelyn, lone survivor of Nightmares on Wax, curates the latest in Studio !K7's uptown DJ Kicks mix series. And following the path of greatest predictability, Evelyn sequences music you'd imagine he'd compile. This should not have been the case for several reasons. A Word of Science, Nightmares on Wax's debut as a trio, reveled in a warped aesthetic that peaked with the hallucinatory "Aftermath," a track so twisted and evilly looped that Second Summer of Love casualties are known to wander throughout Greater London muttering the thought-crimping vocal refrain.

With Evelyn abandoned by his crew, he turned his musical attention from funk-avant-garde, to just honest-as-the-Earth hip-hop. No more messin', Evelyn wanted to slam some real street shit on us. And well qualified he seemed to do this. "Night's Interlude" had become one of the Ur-texts for James Lavelle's Mo'wax roster, eliminating the necessity for anyone to get up and strut their bad selves. Nope. Just bob yer 'ead, mate and that'll show your appreciation.

But the signifiers got more than a little muddled. Unlike Sotheby's auctioneers trained to notice and respond to the merest suggestion of a flick of a bidder's wrist, one couldn't distinguish between a too-cool-for-this-shit Mo'wax devotee or the involuntary head-lolling of some zee-onked bong-boy.

The unhappy result of this indistinguishability was the sloppy deluge of trip-hop, amid which subsequent Nightmares on Wax albums Smoker's Delight (prosecution rests!) and Carboot Soul barely floated. With the opportunity to assemble a mix disc for Studio !K7, I'd hope that Thomas would put down the pipe and give us something noteworthy.

I'd like to imagine that a mix disc from a respected label such as Studio !K7 would seek to be part of the great tape-compilation tradition. Obsessive pause-button compilers across the world, sweaty-palmed with the excitement of introducing friends, family and the mail-room guys to music outside of their usual zone, challenge themselves to juxtapose pleasant oddities. An Otis Redding soulwrencher against a Sandy Denny lament, perhaps, for a natural and expected collision. I remember the compilation tape my hippie friend Mike made for me that introduced me to the Third Bardo, the Third Ear Band, and Love. If I ever lost that tape, I'd be devastated.

So, commercially available compilation CDs should ideally be replaceable irreplaceables. Studio !K7 have provided us with at least one such disc. Nicolette's installment swerved effortlessly and logically between Shut Up and Dance urban hardcore and deep ambient to IDM stalwarts Plaid. The never-disappointing Nuphonic label has become the motherlode of such desirable compilations. Not only have they released the two David Mancuso Loft sets, but also Norman and Joey Jay's Notting-Hill-Carnival-in-your-living-room Good Times.

It irks me to report that you'll have just okay times with Nightmares on Wax's compilation. It's not that any of the tracks are cornball or turgid. The artists and the labels represented have all licensed high quality drops of wax. From "Ay, Ay, Stutter," Saukrates' unintentional tribute to UK comedy rappers Morris Minor and the Majors, to the nu-oldskool breaks of Grand Unified's "Shake Up"; from the Stax horn section-adoring "Ease Jimi" by Nightmares on Wax to the jazz-disco of Syrup's "Chocolate," Evelyn plays one good record after another. Though he thankfully didn't attempt to turntable some cross-fader action, or to perform the crab-walk, the scoozy, the backspin-shuffle, or even a salvo of triplicate zickity-zags, Evelyn could have done something a bit special than wait until one record was fading out before pressing the start button on another. This just lends a blandness to a disc that could have been an ear-opening, run-down, dumpster-strewn alleyway of musical unexpectations.

Free of anything out-of-the-ordinary, the Nightmares on Wax's contribution to the DJ Kicks series will find favor with those who love their music barely audible, and with those who cherish their music collections more as qualifications for admittance into the scenester clique. Or, of course, with those who spend time prospecting for a missing eighth (last seen underneath a sofa cushion... or was it in the freezer cabinet?) than considering the quality of the contents of their disc-changer.

-Paul Cooper