Dirty Vegas Sound System

    A Night at the Tables


    It is dangerous to have one of your first claims to fame in the United States be an over-played Mitsubishi Eclipse commercial. However, looking beyond the exhausted Days Gone By Dirty Vegas proves in A Night At The Tables that they have a lot more spinning in the palm of their hands than car commercial appeal. This London-based threesome brings something back to electronica that was lost a while ago: soul and funk.


    A Night at the Tables, which mixes house tracks with considerable taste, could be a stab at gaining some credibility among other dance producers still trolling the undergroundOn vocals and percussion, Steve Smith brings in a seamless array of beats, so that even the most rhythmically challenged person would be hard-pressed not to feel them pulsating through their system. He brings in everything from Samba drums to Pink Floyd, reminding the listener that music, and part of what makes house so potent and at times ironically primitive in spite of the high-tech gear, boils down to a necessary rhythm. The rest is just icing on the cake.

    Paul Harris and Ben Harris do not disappoint in keyboard and guitar, respectively, and their production of this album. They put the soul and human quality back onto the turntables. Though they don’t rely on vocal; they use a powerful array of instruments and sounds that are not usually taken advantage of by DJ artists. Like most great modern music, even hip-hop, Dirty Vegas recognizes its rock roots, and is in many ways an important evolution of the rock band.

    A few tracks do fall prey to the cached car commercial, bad club genre. For the most part the album stays true to the second track, “Dark Beat,” featuring Oscar G and Ralph Falcon: “I feel it deep inside me, I want to ride it, can’t fight it, might as well rely on the drum beat cause I’m a slave to the dark beat.” For anyone who has never understood the music scene that exploded out of the early ’90s, listen to this evolved form. You won’t be able to deny the Samba drums pounding deep inside while the turntable spins unmercifully.