Let's place this record in some sort of context, shall we? It's 1991. My career as a musician is at its height. I'm a member of a highly successful indie rock band. And what am I listening to? Maybe some Carter USM? Kingmaker? Any of the other indie rockers filling the pages of the Melody maker or the NME? Nope. All I listened to was house music, and *points down* Breakbeat Hardcore. For several years, from roughly 1987 through to 1994, that was it for me. I was so immersed in the whole scene, so completely involved, that I ended up working in a Record shop in North London, specifically to feed my vinyl habit. The shop was called The Record & Disco Centre, or "the R&D" to its legions of regular customers, and was situated in the basement of a video rental shop in the suburban hinterland of Rayners Lane, at the northern end of the Piccadilly line. In between tours, gigs, and press appointments, I'd hop on the tube, get to the shop, get behind the counter, and feel completely, utterly at home. I've seldom been happier than when I was behind the pair of technics we had at the end of the counter, playing new tunes to an eager group of punters. The shop was right at the cutting edge as far as tunes went, we would have constant deliveries of new stock, and every new tune would be instantly assessed and devoured by a bunch of DJ's, desperate for the freshest tunes that their money could buy.
I vividly remember the feeling of breaking open a 25-count box of vinyl, fresh out of the Van that delivered it to the shop, seeing all those 12" sleeves, tightly swathed in shrink wrap, and snapping one open to play it for the punters. The world of record buyers are divided into two groups: those who use a fingernail to slice open the shrink wrap, and those who use the leg of their jeans. I'm in the latter group. It's quite simple, you find the "opening", give the 12" a shake so the vinyl inside nestles nearer to the edge, then rub the edge a few times, really fast, on your upper leg. Job done. Once the record inside has revealed itself, I always loved the smell of the vinyl as it emerged into the air of the shop for the first time. Pristine, dust-free, shiny, perfect. As quick as possible, I'd place it on the deck, slide the needle over....and wait. Years of listening to tunes focuses your diagnostic skill to a fine point: you tend to know in about 10 seconds whether it's a real tune or not. And so did all the DJ's crowding round the decks; at roughly the same point in the song, either a huge shout of "TUNE!" would go up, or a collective shrug of the shoulders would consign the tune to the bargain bin, from whence it would struggle to reappear. This particular record emerged from a huge pile of Strictly Rhythm releases (the label seemed to put out an almost constant stream of 12"s) and, at first glance, seemed like nothing special. Rhythm Section hadn't really recorded anything of real note before, there were no in-vogue remixes on offer (Wild Pitch, etc) and overall, it looked like any other generic slice of New Jersey Warehouse funk. How wrong I was. After a small, breathy vocal sample, the record started, and began to weave its spell on me. It's driven by a clattering almost garage-like set of beats, but it's all the melodies that make this one: a series of long, sustaining string samples, almost discordant, punctuated by niggling little vibraphone and keyboard riffs. Floating over the top is a sample of Ten City's Byron Stingily, repeating the title like a mantra: "Love Will Make It Right......" And he's right isn't he? Love WILL make it right, won't it? Every time I hear him sing, even if I don't believe it, you can bet I WANT to believe it. the relentless nature of the tune, coupled with the tension created by the shimmering sustain of the chords, means I always drift off into a sort of reverie while listening to it: it's house music at its very, very best. It's primal, urgent, compelling and just flat-out wonderful. Keen Jesus Jones fans will spot how much I loved this song, by noting that a sample from it appears in the JJ song "Want To Know" (the B-side of "The Devil You Know") that's a measure of how obsessed by this song I was- the entire JJ song was basically me trying to find a way of paying homage.
These days, it shouldn't be too difficult to find a second-copy of it, should you want one. SR 12"'s are a common sight in Dance shops, and many people tend to dismiss them as a result: "Well, if there's a huge pile of them, they can't be that good, can they?" Well, amongst that pile of SR 12"s in your local second-hand emporium there will probably be a copy of this, and it probably wont cost you more than a couple of quid. You'd be a fool to miss out. I've included both mixes of the A-side, the first is the full version, the second is sparser, more dreamy, and allows the melodies even more room to breathe. Both are, as you might gather, highly recommended.
Urban Rhythm "Luv Will Make It Right" (Hardhouse Mix) (mp3)