The scene was the 80's in the suburbs of Chicago. It was Satuday night, and the party was at my house. The two guys who lived next door had offered to bring over their equipment and play some music. I was expecting a band and thought that would be cool. Anything would be better than my roomates stereo, it still played 8-tracks. But when my neighbors knocked at the back door, I was surprised to see them without guitars or amps. They were carrying a pair of beat-up turntables and a couple of milk crates full of records. That Saturday night was my introduction to the world of house music.

Not the sugary, poppy sounds of the Pet Shop Boys or Art of Noise that were so prominent toward the end of the 80's, but real House, Acid House, the sounds of Maurice, Justin Strauss and Phuture. I heard the deep rumble of the base that evening and was hooked.

By 1985, everyone had collectively agreed that Disco sucked, but a sound of substance had yet to step into the spotlight. It took until 1987. DJ's, bored with what was happening, started to create their own sound. Those who were loyal to certain clubs began to be recognized for their specific sound. It was the music of the "house."

I learned to DJ in the neighbors' basement that summer on one Sony belt drive turntable and a Techniques direct drive. No fader. No pitch control. We just got real good at dragging our fingers along the edge of the platter and working the Radio Shack volume controllers we had jerry rigged.

Chicago was blowing up with the new House sound. It was all over the college stations and the true alternative stations. I spent the rest of the summer inhaling as much of it as I could. By fall, I had a fat stack of vinyl with tracks from artists like Richie Rich, A Guy Called Gerald and Inner City to begin my collection which now commands a large portion of my bedroom.

The records reviewed here are a two of my new favorites. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do. Peace.