From the Archives: Leftfield's 'Rhythm and Stealth'

Rhythm and Stealth is a brooding onslaught of electronic wizardry. From the streetwise raps of Roots Manuva on ‘Dusted,’ to the Afrika Bambaata throwdown of ‘Afrika Shox’ to the spectral beauty of ‘Swords,’ this swansong from one of England’s techno supergroups is still undefeated as the final statement on ’90s electronica.

Unlike Leftism, Leftfield’s popular first album of 1995, 1999’s Rhythm and Stealth was jagged and austere in its first impressions. At it’s core was still Neil Barnes and Paul Daley’s unmistakable blend of thundering techno, dub science, hip hop beats, house rhythms and punk attitude. But their approach was now deeper in its studio precision, more beguiling in its sonic tricks, and in the end far more Detroit than Ibiza.

Reference points of place and genre fail to convey the album’s true genius though, ranging from masterful experiments in the percussive warping of space-time to 21st Century songs that beam melodies through echo-prisms like zigzagging lasers. ‘Afrika Shox’ takes a two note bass pattern and reverses it, sucking it back up, then looping to sound like an assembly line of dreams. Or take ‘Phat Planet,’ a bewitching storm of funky change-ups and slapping high-hats that whip the air so hard they light the aural darkness like white torch flames. When the track climaxes with a drop, the drums come back in ever so slightly after the beat, giving the seance more wicked inflections, resetting the vector points of polyrhythm.

Leftism still gets the most kudos from critics and fans alike. It captured the heady days from 1993 to 1995 and was a chart success. But its sequel is Leftfield’s true masterpiece, a flawless, challenging work of art built to outsmart the march of time. Listen closely and you’ll be hooked, never quite able to crack its code.