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"6 8 M I L L I O N S H A D E S" S P R I N G H E E L J A C K I S L A N D / T R A D E 2 the British drum 'n' bass innovators Spring Heel Jack, reviewed here, have nothing to do with the ska band called Spring Heel Jack, though both are named after the 19th century apparition that haunted London in what would now be called an extraterrestrial encounter. The distinction matters because "68 Million Shades" is absolutely the only Spring Heel Jack CD to go for — an unusual breakthrough album that is both an enchanting dance record and a non-stop head trip. England's dance styles now proliferate so rapidly and with so many disposable practitioners that non-dance-specialists who are attracted to "68 Million Shades" need to know where Spring Heel Jack is coming from. So-called drum 'n' bass grew out of ragga, a grandchild of reggae and cousin of gangsta rap, in which rapid trap-drum type beats swirl around and under slower, fatter bass figures (oddly enough, the effects of drum 'n' bass, both good and bad, were best foreshadowed by "Rated X" on the 1974 Miles Davis album "Get Up with It"). The apparent goal is to challenge and tease dancers by constantly disrupting the groove but, in practice, drum 'n' bass too often has a cold, manic quality, the rapid parade of rhythms only emphasizing their sterile utility. Even leading drum 'n' bass composers and DJs like LTJ Bukem have trouble keeping extended pieces from sounding arbitrary. Ashley Wales and John Coxon (ex-Spiritualized guitarist) of Spring Heel Jack have shattered the mounting drum 'n' bass barriers. The trip-hammer high beats and the lolling low notes of standard bass 'n' drum often remain, but every other aspect of the music takes off into unexplored territory. The pair mixes final tracks live and always uses sampled real drums, but that simply gives its numbers a more mammalian temperature. What enriches tracks like "Midwest," "Take 3" and "Suspensions" is Coxon and Wales' comprehensive and catholic appreciation of all previous dance modes from '70s disco to deep funk to electronic dub, and their calm ability to distort and recombine with dead aim. Rapid piano figures can suggest either train wheels on tracks or a sort of crazed, minimalist-classical momentum. The Spring Heel Jack flair for creating brief dramatic narratives in music, reminiscent of Brian Eno's early puzzles and parables, carries "68 Million Shades" through grooves that know when to quit and past rhythm shifts that happen precisely enough to sustain surprise. Those captivated by the straight edition of this album should seek out the import remix collection called "Versions" (Track2), a fully stand-alone treatment where dub dreams engulf the dance floor. Still, instrumental pop is always problematic, especially one so dependent on brilliant cannibalism as Spring Heel Jack's. Without words or any sort of character projection to play with, one wonders how long Wales and Coxon will be able to keep up their championship form. Dance music grinds up trend-setters like no other field. These guys do show durable composition sense and a passion for introspection that can draw in listeners after the dance licks grow passé. Anyway, the future can wait with "68 Million Shades" around — it already owns tomorrow. Feb. 3, 1997 — Milo Miles Milo Miles is a regular contributor to Salon, the Village Voice and National Public Radio's "Fresh Air." Bookmark: http://www.salonmagazine.com/sharps/sharps.html