Goldfrapp
Strict Machine (Mute 9215)

The most irresistably luscious song from Goldfrapp's decadent Black Cherry disc is its best single, and this EP offers nearly an hour's worth of remixes, plus a couple of more lullaby-ish b-sides so as not to purvey more than the legal limit of an over-the-counter aphrodisiac. The remixes are clubby but musical, while the b-sides ("White Soft Rope" and a live version of "Hairy Trees") showcase Goldfrapp's less sexy and more elegant side. I swear, this girl's like one of those high-society women who crop up on "Special Victims Unit" every now and then, revealed to be taking part in deep underground S&M orgies when they're not organizing Race For the Cure fundraisers.

The single mix isn't vastly different from the album version, with rubbery bass, ecstatic high-pitched vocal, and drumline strangely reminscent of "Gold" by John Stewart ("When the lights go down in a California town …") Rowan's remix brings things to a deeper and danker place, enhanced by a slightly embarrassing sampled moan – not embarrassing in terms of cheesiness, but more in that it sounds like Alison Goldfrapp getting a surprise finger in the ass.

Calderone & Suryanto give it a tribal spin, at 12 minutes, ideal for your next sex-mix (sadly, three minute pop songs aren't great for a sex-mix, as they only encourage premature ejaculation – as such, I'm organizing a class-action suit against Squeeze).

Peter Rauhofer's NYC Mix uses a Frankenstein-esque electrical buzz effect that, uncannily, actually makes my neck twitch, right where the bolts would be. This has me convinced that the family rumor of a zombie in my ancestry is true. Maybe I could have qualified for minority student grants after all!

The last few mixes push things deep into a very-late-night haze: Rauhofer's UK Mix is stripped-down to an almost subconscious level; Benny Benassi's mix plays up the gritty electrobass; the almost totally instrumental "Stripped Machine" mix is pure serotonin, boosting the chemical euphoria full-on and building to an exhausted climax. As with most Goldfrapp discs, I'm left unsure whether I've been listening to music or having crazy sex in the VIP room.

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Review by Thomas Long-and-Strong