The '90s were, by most acounts, a great time to be American or British—dot coms and economic prosperity and rising tides blurring (urg) the disparity between haves and have nots, making even slacker jobs—say, civil service—relatively comfortable and attractive and bohemian; everyone could enjoy the bank holiday together. The guy who turned me on to Blur along with a host of other bands in the '90s, something of a mentor, seemed to perfectly exemplify this type: He worked a slacker job, had a great apartment on Capitol Hill, sported an Artists for a Work-Free America t-shirt and meant it, and just generally seemed like a man of leisure. And men of leisure need leisure rock like Blur. But it's hard to maintain a life of leisure in a great depression, and while we might get a lot of blistering punk rock in the coming years (or, shit, fingers crossed some green public works really will solve employment and environmental problems in one fell swoop), what will happen to the leisure rock of the world? Sure, the actually privileged leisure class may continue to make the stuff, but so what if us proles can't actually enjoy it? And what then to make of all this Blur reunion talk?

Man, I miss that dude.

I'd like to look at last Halloween as a sign of anti-doom.

While warming up for the late-night Neumo's Diplo set at Moe's bar next door, we noticed the music over our heads was suddenly excellent. Gone was the obvious cross-stitch irony of one of the Girl Talk albums and on came a stereo of all late '80s and early '90s. There was LL Cool J, if we remember right, and Mary J. Blige, Beats International, Soul II Soul, New Order, Rob Base & DJ E-Z Rock, and loads more. Hits of the past floated in the air -- songs of a time when dance music was an innate, almost subconscious floorboard for endless amounts of popular and relevant genres -- passing between people dressed as unicorns, bananas, Ms. Pac Man, Alice Cooper In Wonderland, and transvestite robots.

Ignore the bad bits of nostalgia. At least for a second.

Dance culture, acid house culture, ecstasy culture, of the late '80s and early '90s was one of the rare times of widespread warmth, futurism, positivity, and a sense of a collective after years of dark politics and splintering music tribes.

The mix, then, whatever it was, took us back in time and eventually carried us into the Diplo show, which turned out to be touched a similar way.

Kicking off with "XR2," the greatest M.I.A. single that never was, a song about the early '90s rave era -- "Imagine we're at Glastonbury '92!" she says at her shows -- Diplo made the place his platter. Ba-ba ba-ba! Ba ba-ba-ba-bah!

Every. Show. Should. Use. It.

While there was an interesting lack of Diplo's usual baile funk, he swerved the set into Baltimore bass, heaps of squelchy house, the usual nods to Seattle (Nirvana's "Smells Like Teen Spirit") and Halloween (Zombie Nation's "Kernkraft 400"), as well as some Santogold, Danzig, thugged-out hip-hop, haunted-house screams, and a brilliant, blistering, sociopathic use of Prodigy's "Smack My Bitch Up".

Neumo's was packed all night but friendly and danceable, and it was reassuring after hearing the recent Crystal Castles horror stories.

But just as with grime and dubstep, what you took away from the set the most was this ripple of early '90s acid house bouncing off the songs. All its synths and build-ups and breakdowns. Its influence and optimism. Diplo, like say, spiritual predecessor Fatboy Slim before him, helps prove that to listen to dance music is to listen to the birth of rave culture.

Earlier at the bar, the stereo played the Andrew Weatherall remix of Primal Scream's "Come Together".

An absolute classic of the ecstasy generation, released in 1990, "Come Together" and its long, pre-dawn dub, samples of Jesse Jackson, and gospel chorus didn't just call back to an earlier time that night, which is easy, but sounded fresh and wonderful and significant again. With an election then days away, no matter what you felt about it, you couldn't write off the way it focused people, brought them towards something, and you could imagine "Come Together" written for any big moment in time when things realign, and when cynicism and cool fades underneath a wave of intelligent positivity, or at the very least, the best of intentions.

When the national honeymoon's over, I thought, I'm sure this will all start to feel ridiculous again, and it probably should.

For one night out, though, I was glad to choke up. I was happy to fall for the fantasy. And by November 4th, joining the swarms and celebrations, I had even more trouble getting these feelings and these ideas and the song out of my head.

But you know, I didn't care.

Go here for an entire album of Obama tributes.

Of course, no Smiths compilation is perfect. But, if you're building your own best of, what absolutely must be included, and what absolutely must be omitted? I'll get things rolling: "Cemetery Gates" must appear; "Meat is Murder" must not.

There are two glaring omissions in this week's Up & Coming concert listings: Swedish hypemachine it-girl Lykke Li (pictured above, with shoes) and French hypemachine it-girl (ca. 2007) Yelle.

How did this happen? Well, somewhere between dropping acid with Of Montreal and time-travelling with Brian Wilson, these international ladies slipped through the cracks. Our apologies. But since these acts owe so much of their buzz to the Internets anyway, maybe it's only appropriate that we address them here on Line Out.

Lykke Li's Youth Novels was produced by Peter Bjorn & John's Björn Yttling, and some folks have pointed out that it kind of sounds like the female vocals from that band's "Young Folks" stretched out to album length. The album is pleasant and poppy enough, though, with a couple undeniable gems, the below, "Dance, Dance, Dance" being one of them:

But, and this is the techno-dork/DJ in me talking, where these tracks really come alive is in the remixes, specifically the Dada Life remix of "Dance, Dance, Dance," the Loving Hand remix of "Little Bit," and both the Metronomy and Fred Falke remixes of "I'm Good, I'm Gone." Also, she closes out her live shows with a cover of "Can I Kick It?" Yes, she can.

I've previously written about Yelle here and here, but basically, Yelle is a delightful, dirty-talking French electro-pop cartoon character. Observe:

Yelle plays Neumos Monday, October 27th, 8pm, $15, all-ages, w/Passion Pit, Funeral Party, & DJ Colby B

Lykke Li plays Neumos Wednesday, October 29th, 8pm, $15, all-ages, w/Friendly Fires

So, I went to this little Of Montreal show last weekend. There was a horse, a hanging, multiple set and costume changes, and something like 26 songs (not least of which was a cover of "Smells Like Teen Spirit"). There was also just so much more than I could possibly fit into the paper. For instance, in addition to this parenthetical:

(Fruit's gender-bending, "queered out" personality could seem like crass tourism or sexual minstrelsy, if it weren't for the fact that Barnes ultimately seems so genuinely sympathetic.)

I also wanted to mention: On the flight to New York, Of Montreal my travel mate was checking the new issue of Blender's review of Skeletal Lamping. On the cover of that issue? Poster girl for sexual identity tourism in 2008, Katy Perry, a (former? lapsed? still?) evangelical pop starlet who cites Paris is Burning as her favorite film and can't shut up about how her heavily made-up persona is just one step away from drag queen. Just seemed like an odd, interesting coincidence.

Also! Of all the songs Of Montreal played that night, the one currently stuck on repeat for me is "So Begins Our Alabee." That sweeping, ascending moment that begins the first chorus just kills! And—this is weird—but the first time I really listened to the song, I completely misheard the line, "the aria is bleeding" as "the areola's bleeding"—in my defense, Barnes' aerial singing voice could easily jump over an "l" sound there, it's totally the kind of anatomical subject matter he fucks with, and the song's nominal subject is a newborn baby, who—and I know nothing about babies—could have been a difficult nurser, right? Right?

Skeletal Lamping is out, in an impressive array of formats, this Tuesday on Polyvinyl. Of Montreal play the Showbox Sodo (new website is wack, guys) on November 19th.

Thank Fuckin' A! "Every Stitch" and, to a less specific extent, every other song on this album was exactly the brain-flushing rock blast I needed this morning (granted, I'd heard it before). That's all.

You may go broke trying to keep up with these archival releases, but your soul will be immeasurably richer for the expenditure.

Tip: Brian Go.

Orchestre Poly-Rythmo de Cotonou Dahomey - "Gbeti Madjro"

URBANA, Ohio (AP) -- A defendant had a hard time facing the music.
Ludwig van Beethoven's music fails to appeal to a man fined for playing rap music too loudly in his car.

Andrew Vactor was facing a $150 fine for playing rap music too loudly on his car stereo in July. But a judge offered to reduce that to $35 if Vactor spent 20 hours listening to classical music by the likes of Bach, Beethoven and Chopin.

Vactor, 24, lasted only about 15 minutes, a probation officer said.

It wasn't the music, Vactor said, he just needed to be at practice with the rest of the Urbana University basketball team.

"I didn't have the time to deal with that," he said. "I just decided to pay the fine."

Champaign County Municipal Court Judge Susan Fornof-Lippencott says the idea was to force Vactor to listen to something he might not prefer, just as other people had no choice but to listen to his loud rap music.

"I think a lot of people don't like to be forced to listen to music," she said.

All the judge had to do was first let the brother listen to Xzibit "Paparazzi":

And then Gabriel Faure's Pavane, Op. 50:

After that, a bit of Beethoven or Bach would've got the brother thinking "extra large."

I know I’ve been jocking the hell out of DJ Struggle on Line Out, but dude deserves it for the killer sets he lays down during the Deep Wednesdays weekly at Vito’s (Madison & 9th) and those he uploads to the internets like a philanthropist of rhythm. Struggle joins forces with fellow Seattle underground-dance obsessive D’jeronimo (Jeremy Grant) to form Made Like a Tree. Their latest mix submerges techno and house in a crepuscular aura, at once burrowing and spacious. These moody, midtempo cuts radiate a subliminal, cerebral sexiness for the post-rave set. The section from Moodymann to Vakula is especially butter. These guys know how to build momentum gradually and their mixing is supremely tight.

The track list for Struggle in Progress (2)
-------------------------------------------------------------
1. Omar S - Tecky Alexander [FXHE]
2. Patrice Scott - Motions [Sistrum]
3. Luke Hess - There Is Hope [FXHE]
4. Morphosis - Baal [Morphine]
5. Patrice Scott - Azteck [Yore]
6. Cassy - Poem [Uzuri]
7. Moodymann - Dem Young Sconies [Planet E]
8. Recloose - Walk Through Turquoise [Rush Hour]
9. MD/LOW - MD [Out To Lunch]
10. Vakula - Loop For My Friends [Uzuri]
11. KSoul & Ra.H - Turning Point [Sistrum]
12. Korsakow - Make U Crazy [United States of Mars]
13. Omar S - Psychotic Photosynthesis [FXHE]
14. Ra.H - Fall of Justice [Morphine]

Some clever human dubs A-Ha's '80s video classic with new, literal narration, and makes me spew tea from my nose.

Thank you, clever human, and thanks for the heads up, MetaFilter.

In our (literally and figuratively) toxic zeitgeist, we need this band like never before. Take refuge, while you can.

Brightblack Morning Light play with Avocet at Tractor Tavern Thursday Oct. 2. See next week’s Stranger for further Brightblack amplification.

In the meantime, some of my own highlights:

Dirty Dancing Showcase - Friday, 9/26 @ Neumos
Segal's not so into Deadmau5, but he's Beatport's most downloaded artist, and on multiple occasions I've found myself asking a DJ what's playing to be greeted with one or another Deadmau5 track. His stuff undoubtedly sounds better in the club than on Segal's or my own home stereo systems.

The Trinity - Friday, 9/26 @ Sole Repair
Jeff Samuel, Derek Plaslaiko, and Jerry Abstract = the truth.

DB in the Park - Saturday, 9/27, 1pm @ Volunteer Park
Techno pranksters Jacob London and Truckasauras blasting their ample beats mid-afternoon on the Volunteer Park lawn. Genius (and all-ages).

Detroit Techno: Past, Present, & Future - Saturday, 9/27 @ Neumos
Carl Craig is a legend, yes, but Audion is hard (or lately more minimal) techno fire. Put your hands up.

2008 Decibel Finale - Sunday, 9/28 @ Neumos
This may be the most eclectic all-star blowout Decibel has ever had, with Kompakt kings Supermayer providing minimal house and tongue-in-cheek disco satisfaction, the Bug trashing dancehall, dub, grime, etc, etc with help from MC Warrior Queen, and Flying Lotus providing his much buzzed-about sun-stoned LA hip hop inflected instrumentals.

And these shows are only the tip of the proverbial ice burg—there's also Dixon, LA Riots, Eluvium, Caro, the Sight Below, Barbara Morgenstern, and countless others. Do yourself a favor and go check out the full schedule and roster of performers over at http://www.dbfestival.com/.