Dâm-Funk - DJ-Kicks

Pitchfork 77

The best DJ sets always involve some sort of telepathy. Usually it’s when a DJ constructs a set that steers you towards euphoria so effectively that it feels like they’re inside your brain at a panel of controls, à la Voltron—a state of ecstatic dissociation so magical that it's the third most popular subject for pop songs after love and smoking weed. But rare and particularly talented DJs can pull off an even more magical feat, dragging you out of your head and into their minds, letting you hear the world through their ears for a moment.

I used to think Dâm-Funk was the more typical kind of DJ, mostly because I’ve only seen him at festivals and big events, and never at Funkmosphere, the residency he’s held at an L.A. bar for the past 10 years. In that more intimate environment, he can stretch out and offer a fully immersive sound experience. And after hearing his contribution to the DJ-Kicks franchise, which is designed to replicate the Funkmosphere vibe, it’s clear that he’s actually the second kind of DJ, and maybe one of the best at that specific kind of mind meld.

Heard through Dâm-Funk’s ears, the world is, as you might expect, a very funky place. It’s also very dreamy. Dâm may be best known for reigniting L.A.’s passion for hard-edged, car-shaking synth funk, but at 44, he seems more interested in creating a shared hypnagogic utopian mindspace than simply rocking a party.

The mix’s tempo tops out at a fairly restrained 126 BPM, and most of the tracks chill a few notches below. The mood is overwhelmingly easy-going, from contemporary synth auteur Moon B’s study in warm, reverb-drenched minimalism that opens the mix, to the closing shimmer of Philly-inspired soul group Crystal Winds’ 1982 track “Funk Ain’t Easy.” Some of the selections, like the airbrushed erotic fantasia “Love Jam” by the cultishly strange duo Randell & Schippers (who have a screencap of a complimentary MySpace comment from Dâm on the homepage of their website, beneath a backstage photo at a Blue Man Group show), border on New Age. Others, like Gaussian Curve’s synth pad daydream “Broken Clouds,” cross fully over.

Taken as a whole, the mix paints a soothing watercolor portrait of a funk-based American counterpart to Balearic house—a style that Ibiza ravers were starting to greet the dawn with around the same time as the bulk of Dâm’s DJ-Kicks picks were being recorded–that never actually existed. Piecing together obscure old cuts from regional labels that probably wouldn’t ever have crossed paths back in the day (like Verticle Lines’ proto-vaporwave 1982 breeze-funk rarity “Theme From Beach Boy” and Gemini’s airy 1997 take on Chicago house, “Log In”) Dâm’s crafted an entire genre in retrospect.

It’s a sound with a promising future, if this mix is any indication. Dâm’s picks lean heavily on vintage grooves that are extremely rare even by crate-digger standards, but some of the strongest material is new. There’s Moon B’s “Oof,” and Kansas City funk auteur Reggie B’s purplishly psychedelic “Poison Candy,” and Dutch producer Henning’s “Arrival / Departure,” which drops a throbbing G-funk beat into a crystalline garden of blissful synth flutes.

Despite Dâm’s preference for playing tracks pretty much all the way through—which suggests an infectious, wide-eyed passion for the music that fits into his mind-control powers—the mix is properly appreciated as a whole. You can let it wash away whatever cares you have in warm, funky waves. There are a few songs that deserve to be listened to on their own, though, and one of the best comes from a collaboration between Dâm and fellow L.A. dreamchaser Nite Jewel. “Can U Read Me?” takes the peak-Janet weightless perfection of “All for You” and turns its touch even lighter, transforming it into something that captures the joy of seeing the sun rise in the corner of your eye and knowing the party isn’t even close to being over. Funk may not be easy, but with Dâm at the controls it can sure feel that way.