Name me a better remix album list than Daniel Avery's remix album list

“Alright, name me a better remix album than this,” says Daniel Avery to the camera as he brandishes a CD copy of Nine Inch Nails 1992 release Fixed.

Avery has just released Tremor (Midnight Versions), a reworking of his own album Tremor which came out last autumn. The remixes have a bit of a boogy about them – as he puts it, these are “club edits aimed squarely at the strobe light”.

Remixes are clearly on his mind, because he recently posted on his socials a tribute to his favourite remix albums. He leads with the Nine Inch Nails album, and the artwork for Midnight Versions seems to be inspired by the Nails artwork.

But he then mentions another batch of remix albums that he loves. Let's go through them.

The Human League / The League Unlimited Orchestra: Love And Dancing (1982), a dubbier take on their Dare album

The Cure: Mixed Up (1990), various twelve-inch bits and related bobs

Massive Attack V Mad Professor: No Protection (1995) – ain’t no Protection from this level of dub wizardry

Björk: Telegram (1996), various remixes of her Post tracks

Primal Scream: Echo Dek (1997), with Bobby’s band reimagining their Vanishing Point album, and oh my word how good was this era of Scream

Two Lone Swordsmen: Peppered With Spastic Magic (2004), although please can we let that word die

Aphex Twin: 26 Mixes For Cash (2003), which I wilfully misunderstand in this blog post

Soulwax: Nite Versions (2005) – they “reshaped my brain as a teenager” says Avery

That's a cracking selection, my favourites being Mad Professor, Primal Scream and Aphex Twin. I'd throw in Dangermouse and maybe Pet Shop Boys too, and I know James's Wah Wah doesn't count but it pretty effectively remixed my brain. 

What is your favourite remix album? Write your answer on a postcard and immediately remix it into a shredder.

Daniel Avery's Tremor (Midnight Versions) is out now.

Further Fats: Music Order Remixed New (see what I did there) (2017)

Further Fats: Cover me bad – Block Rockin' Beats by the Chemical Brothers (2021)

Dance music fans, I have bad news about Christmas

Every now and then, mega cool dance music dominates the charts.

Yeah, I said "mega cool". Deal with it, kids.

Like the time the Chemical Brothers' Setting Sun topped the charts in 1996, the same year the Prodigy took the top spot twice. Or the moment Kraftwerk knocked Shakin' Stevens off number one. Or 21st century bangers breaking past a mush of identikit dance records such as Mint Royale's Singin' In The Rain or Kiesza's Hideaway.

The bad news is that Santa is having none of this. He hates dance music. He's your crusty old grandpa banging on the ceiling with a walking stick, or in his case, an elf. There has never been a mega cool dance hit as Christmas number one.

There must be some Christmas chart toppers with dance elements, right? A pearl among the oysters, a bit of gristle amid the constant stream of watery gravy, something credible besides Jimmy Osmond, Cliff Richard, all the Band Aids and Shayne flipping Ward.

Wait. Yazoo's Only You was Christmas number one in 1983. Vince Clarke! Alison Moyet! Synths! Except this was the a cappella version by The Flying Pickets: not dancey at all. Dammit.

What else? Not much. Mr Blobby's self-titled 1993 Chrimbo chart-topper was a dance music track, with its horrendously outdated Stock Aitken Waterman rhythms. But it can't count: it was a children's singalong with a bunch of kids who deserved to be sent up t'chimneys.

Apart from one track I'm yet to mention, that's it. Everything else is ballads, charity singles or people singing about sausage rolls. If Christmas was a nightclub, it would have been long bulldozed to make way for an Asda. I believe in the power of redemption, such as celebrity chefs doing interesting things with the long maligned sprout, but there is no hope here: the Christmas chart topper will never be a mega cool dance hit.

Except...

There is a pure, club-thumping dance track that made it to number one. It had samples, a roof-raising build-up and key change, and a pretty nifty breakbeat. That's right. Bob the Builder's Can We Fix It? is the most danceable festive number one in history.

Has Bob fixed it? Yes, he has. Have a listen: that's a proper skippy breakbeat right there. Even better, he knocked Westlife off the top of the charts when he became the Christmas chart-topper in 2000. Santa Claus is squeezing down your chimney, and he's armed with a cartoon wrench and Neil Morrissey dressed a reindeer.

Thank you, Bob. Or should I call you Robert? You truly are the most mega cool king of Chrimbo.

*publishes blog post*

*fast-forward to later that night*

*Fat Roland's bedroom, a rattle of chains in the darkness*

FATS: Whaaa? What's that? Who's there?
GHOST: Wooooah. It's me. The ghost of blogs past.
FATS: What do you want? Is it money? Lard? Take the lard! I only keep it on my bedside table for comfort.
GHOST: Whooaah. I'm here to tell you off about that blog post you did. The one about Christmas. Wooooaaaah!
FATS: Since when did ghosts get internet?
GHOST: You didn't mention the Pet Shop Boys Always On My Mind and the Human League's Don't You Want Me. Woooah.
FATS: Can I go back to bed? I've not finished making my Christmas candle and I need to break into my neighbour's first thing to get more earwax.
GHOST: Woooah. You deliberately missed out two of the biggest electronic music hits of all time to make some vapid point about dance music and Christmas. Seriously, dude. It renders your whole point moot. Woah.
FATS: Listen here, matey, get back inside that wardrobe. I'm going to push you back inside that spooky flipping wardrobe.
GHOST: Yikes! Do you always dress like that for bed? That's going to chafe, surely.
FATS: Hey, if it's good enough for Noel Edmonds, it's good enough fo—

*cuts to black*

Pictured above: Glasgow Sound Control's window display at Christmas taken by Agent Banana

Further Fats: Fat Roland's number one album chart death rant (2010)

Further Fats: If it goes bleep, it may or may not be EDM (2013)

The Guardian puts a clonk on it

If you're quick, you can still get the Guardian's tribute to Warp Records, cut it out with your mam's sewing scissors, and plaster it on your wall like a great big fanboy.

'Bleep Of Faith' is a neat little feature looking back on 20 years of the electronic music label.

It contains all the obvious gems of Warp mythology, listed here for your easy digestment, plus one or two lovely stories. I especially like the image of LFO fighting on stage like they were some kind of Kraftwerkian Gallagher brothers.

- Warp Records was conceived in a bedroom. Arf!;

- modern electronica was born with the release of the Artificial Intelligence album;

- the first release (Track With No Name) was flogged from the back of a car;

- they fooled Pete Tongue into thinking the future of music was something called "clonk";

- they happen to make some pretty bloody good films (the best of which is This Is England)

- LFO used to fight on stage. Like Brian Jonestown Massacre;

- the label was started with a £40 Enterprise Allowance grant;

- Richard David James, a.k.a. Aphex Twin, is something of a 'maverick'. You'd never guess;

- signing the likes of Maximo Park had purists spluttering into their chai tea;

- the early releases apparently sounded exactly like Sheffield, which makes Warp totally different from Pulp, who also sounded exactly like Sheffield... who were, incidentally, totally different from the Human League, who also .... you get the idea.