Snuff Crew - Snuff Crew

SNUFF CREW - SNUFF CREW (Gigolo)

Cycles in music are an ever-present notion in today’s popular music.  It would be hard for anyone in house or techno to say that there has genuinely been something forward-looking in some time, apart from the merging of other styles to a 4/4 beat, made easier by sampling and software technology. Therefore, it is perhaps natural that producers look to the past for inspiration for a music that is ultimately functional, and in this instance, a sense of validation in what is right and an attempt to capture the spirit of what went before. The perennial and tiresome argument about analogue or digital or hardware vs software inevitably produces responses that are polarised, which really misses the point. There is no right or wrong, it is ultimately all a matter of conjecture.

I’ve long held the theory that old Chicago house and acid is akin in some ways to Blues. It can induce a purist attitude in its fans, and in many ways the music is similar in aesthetics - stripped down, simplistic sounds that are untreated and usually produced by jamming. Just as Blues guitarists do little in the way with the raw sounds of their guitars, so acid house purists place their belief in the electrical circuitry of the 303 and just programming their machines on the fly.

Mysterious duo Snuff Crew don’t hang back with their belief - this, their first album, is a raw 10 track eulogy to the power of acid house, and it’s one of those releases that does exactly what it says on the tin, namely jacking acid, all at 121 bpm. It is hard to get away from the fact that we have been here before - the much missed Sander Meyer aka Sendex was producing material like this just under a decade ago, and the first three tracks on the album don’t really catch one’s attention. It’s not until the sinewy tropes of “Desire” that we hear a more melodic aspect to their jams that makes them stand off. Funnily enough, there’s just a hint of Carl Craig in “Free”, the 4 note trope echoing “The Climax”. Standout of the album is “Temple”, the melody echoing the finer moments of Kenny Larkin and Derrick May, and is suitably effervescent, the mood standing out against the rest of the album.

As a statement of intent, this album couldn’t be any more direct, but it is a suitable tool for those wanting to inject some acid into their sets, and stands as a testament to the continuing attraction of an instrument that still retains the ability to cut right to the heart of the chase. The acid sound of the 303 is nearly 25 years old, but it shows no sign of retiring gracefully yet.

Toby Frith