Much like Saint Etienne, Mono are a conscious anachronism: at once besotted by the spectres of 1960s French chanteuses like Chantel Goya and Francoise Hardy, dazzled by the pastel palette of that era-yet also mindful of the zeitgeist, and keenly aware of the nature of contemporary electronica. The group (essentially, programmer Martin Virgo and vocalist Siobhan De Mare) are careful to balance their kitsch inclinations with actual songcraft, and at its best-on tracks like "Life In Mono" and "Slimcea Girl"-the result makes for an agreeably fizzy pop concoction. True to their ethos, the arrangements here tend to favour the archaic and hand-made-harpischord-like keyboards and celestes, organs, vibraphones-and while there are occasional concessions to modernity (the drum & bass-lite beats which end "The Outsider," for instance), the instruments mostly sound as if they're emerging from the far side of a dream: heavy on tremelo and reverb, perfectly complementing De Mare's breathy vocals. Addictive stuff. -Andrew McGuire It was pretty inevitable that Portishead would have successors, and when producer Martin Virgo (who'd worked in the same Bristol scene) hooked up with vocalist Siobhan de Maré, they followed in the same slow-dark-groove-plus-diva path. But there's a sense of creative opposition that fuels Formica Blues: they love the harmonically complex pop of the 1960s (Bacharach is a particular favorite, and the single "Life in Mono" has a melody that owes something to Serge Gainsbourg), but they're also fascinated by the double-time beats and simple cadences of drum & bass. At times, the album sounds like two entirely different bands fortuitously in sync; at its best, it makes up for de Maré's slightly forced delivery with a dead-on sense of both rhythm and melody. -Douglas Wolk.

Music Kills Me is the second album by Jean Phillipe and Patou; two French psychologists turned beatologists who first emerged on the dance scene with their debut disco-house LP Installation Sonore, a year or so after the French-filtered house explosion inaugurated by Daft Punk. A couple of years on and the duo are back with a more rambunctious, guitar-fuelled disco sound, but one which still turns the filters on to full effect. Opening impressively enough with the pumping "Le Rock Summer"-which neatly juxtaposes rock chords with classy disco strings-it seems we are in for a bit of a treat. As the album progresses though, the same tricks are repeated over and we even find some quite nasty moments like the stuck-in-a-timewarp "Dead Flowers" and the ugly downtempo vocal track "Resurrection D'une Guitar Hero" (the mellower reprise later in the LP is much more engaging). The album is ultimately saved by some of the deeper and more subtle grooves that Rinocerose come up with-"It's Time To Go Now", "Lost Love", "No, We're Not Experienced". Downtempo tracks like "Dead Can Dance" and "Highway To Heaven" are also very palatable. There's nothing overly original or inspiring here but it's not without the odd streak of charm either. -Paul Sullivan.

Ever since they were credited with inventing progressive house with their first single "Not Forgotten" in 1991, Leftfield have been earmarked as pioneers. Their debut album was a glorious fruition of their talents, delivering on all fronts and sealing their place in dance music history. Effortlessly weaving intoxicating rhythms and sublime melodies around the diverse vocals of former Sex Pistol John Lydon, reggae toaster Earl Sixteen and indie ice maiden Toni Halliday, Leftism is a scintillating journey through all the planes of club culture. From the interstellar dancehall vibes of "Release The Pressure" to the languid splendour of "Melt" and the peerless dancefloor dynamics of "Song Of Life", Paul Daley and Neil Barnes prove themselves jacks of all trades and masters of them all. "Make room for me," screamed Lydon on "Open Up"; the rest of the dance music world duly stepped aside to let the Leftfield juggernaut through. -Ed Potton.

Oxygene 7-13 continues where Jean-Michel Jarre left off 20 years before, that is, the last track ("Part 6") of 1977's Oxygene. Much had changed in the interim, for both Jarre and synthesizer technology. The result is a set of up-tempo, highly melodic electronic trance reminiscent of Steve Hillage's work of the time, as well as German trance producers like Sven Väth. Though it will sound best to those already familiar with his music, Jarre's influence was considerable, and he continued to prove it in the late 90s. -John Bush, All Music Guide.

The tracklisting of Points In Time Volume Three, from LTJ Bukem's legendary label reads like a who's who of atmospheric drum & bass, with contributions from Peshay, Oxford producer Q Project and Rob Solomon, perhaps better known as Certificate 18's Lexis. While the aforementioned artists and Axis cover the label's middle years, early history comes from Bukem himself with "Enchanted" and PFM's "Dreams," the flips to "Music" and "One and Only" respectively. This domination of b-sides is sure to please those looking to fill the gaps in their collection, with the album highlight coming from the Hertfordshire studios of Conrad Shafie and Gavin Cheung (aka Blame and Cloud Nine) who step up with the superbly atmospheric "Reflections. " - Kingsley Marshall.