Yoshiesque II is one of those releases where overpaid ex-children's entertainers mix one record into another until the capacity of the CD audio format has been reached. And because Washington D.C.'s Deep Dish duo are so highly ranked in former children's entertainer circles, they're even allowed to fill up a second disc with records as planky as the ones they crammed onto the first.

Deep Dish likely assume that, by releasing a two-disc set of mediocre dance tunes, we'll adore them all the more and forgive the intriguing shambles that was the duo's only album of original material, Junk Science. I do have to concede one note of gratitude, though: none of the records Deep Dish play here comes from the hard house genre.

In fact, while I'm feeling generous, I'll also thank them for opening up Yoshiesque II in rocktacular-white-noise-from-the-roar-of-narco-chaos style with the Chemical Brothers' mustard-powder-pessary remix of Spiritualized's "I Think I'm In Love." After experiencing five minutes of the heat corrosion of Thighpaulsandra's analogue synths, the Chemical Brothers' unrepentant beats and cranky b-lines jolt like a burning heretic kicking at the stake. It's quite a way to begin a house music mix. But of course, Deep Dish realize that such baptismal tactics are hardly what millions of potential customers will shell out $20 bucks for. Thus, they follow up this track with the Chris Rea-meets-Dido-at-Twilo filler "Back When We Was Attached" by Jori Hulkkonen. Hulkkonen's lackluster blend of progressive house, Zen piano sprinkles and mullet-moving MOR guitar hooks makes this track primed for the Californian boutique market. Expect to hear it in a highly dramatic coupling scene in a forthcoming episode of "Six Feet Under!"

Deeper into their forgettable mix, the duo pull out Behrouz's "What We Do in Life (Echoes in Eternity)," a confused thirty-something loser of a track. Quoting Gladiator's Maximus, I suppose, is calculated to elevate this song into a revelatory experience such as studying the Nag Hammadi scrolls or being inducted into the Greek Orthodox Church. But no. It's just a scrabbled attempt to avoid unfavorable and unavoidable comparisons with a similarly rank Pete Cetera song.

Deep Dish's marketing drones have made a huge deal about how deep the boys have dug into their record collections. And while it's true that we miss the Deep Dish remixes of whichever pop skank has shelled enough lolly to make it worth their while to shred some cred, we regret Deep Dish's blatant worshipping of Danny Tenaglia. As cringe-inducing as a soap opera awards ceremony, Deep Dish conspicuously pull out an obscure, drecky slab of Tenaglia's past-- his remix of the Daou's "Surrender Yourself"-- and claim it as an unrecognized masterpiece. In fact, it's a worthless trip back to the forgettable farp-farp sound of 1994. Trying to fool us into believing otherwise is naked charlatanry.

But pulling the wool over our eyes is precisely what Deep Dish persistently manage with these mix discs and receive accolades for. They're given front page articles in glossy magazines in which they say vaguely provocative things about hard house and G.W. Bush. They've even coined the term "Yoshiesque," a wholly narcissistic adjective which apparently describes the records they spin in their DJ sets. In their self-involved minds, they believe artists have Deep Dish solely in mind when they toil at their Pro Tools workstations.

Beyond this revolting solipsism, Yoshiesque II lacks any drama. Never does the duo pose a question and respond, nor do they once cleverly juxtapose tracks so that we may understand some emergent truth. We're merely abandoned to thank them for not assaulting us with ever more dismal tunes, rather than for encouraging us to think differently about a genre or an artist. Look, I know that Deep Dish is a dance act, but I believe that innovative and original dance acts should work on multiple levels simultaneously. Don't think I'm demanding that Deep Dish create the dancefloor equivalent of Messien's "Turangalîla Symphony." But I reserve the right to expect more than the shabbier end of mediocrity. They mock us by labeling their style "progressive"-- it's nothing of the sort! And with no reason to pine for Yoshiesque III, they give us every incentive to throw volume two in the same direction we threw the first installment months ago.

Some artists are able to distill a place and a time. Joyce solidified one day in Dublin, Kafka crystallized Prague. Deep Dish are hardly so well endowed. They bothered to come up with the neologism "Yoshiesque," but can't be arsed to define their recently minted adjective beyond arrogant self-reference, leaving us to do it for them. And so, without further ado:

Yoshiesque (adj.): easily and justifiably dismissible; more than just a bit crap. Really.

-Paul Cooper