Two discs also means that there's a few by-the-numbers pieces here, like the disc one opener, "Midnight Jogger," which to be honest does make you feel a bit like you're checking out a website for high-end spa treatments—a soundtrack to digital capital. But the less-impressionable instances are heavily outweighed by must-have moments. Secret Circuit's "Roll" sounds like an outtake from Quiet Village's Silent Movie, and for psychedelically smooth chill-out music there are few higher compliments.
Another advantage to the two-disc stretch-out is the chance to let the big boys roam in unexpurgated expanse—you get all eleven minutes of Gatto Fritto's killer "Hungry Ghosts," which, although the title sounds like a Mario Bava film, is actually a glistening Balearic adventure, a vessel on the open sea pointed towards the setting sun, languid synth swells and needley guitars echoing. Likewise there's plenty of room for weirdo-disco godfather Bernard Fevre to turn in two heretofore-unheard Black Devil Disco Club jams, and as you'd hope he manages to effortlessly show the newcomers how it's done. Brain Machine's rework of "Is Sorrow" takes the trademark Black Devil sound into previously unexplored depths, producing an atmospheric long-form creeper that sounds like it's emanating from an alien colony on the ocean floor.
Furthermore, "disco" shouldn't instantly conjure up embarrassing clothes and nauseating boogie—check out DFA's Eric Broucek's mix of Soft Circle's "Don't Just Stand There," an edgy rock-house hybrid propelled by Circle's trademark percussive thunder. Elsewhere artists from cult label Italians Do it Better hold up the poppier side of things: Nite Jewel appears gauzed in intimate splendor, her "What Did He Say?" a hazy, lo-fi take on '80s club R&B ala Sheila E. IDIB mainstays Glass Candy get remixed by Swedish disco impresario Johan Agebjörn, a cunning match for certain, and the resulting version of Chameleon adds the grayest sliver of party vibes to an otherwise amazingly goth-black dirge: like seeing sunlight after being buried alive. The fact that such a tune can show up on a comp whose title implies hotel-ready lounge beats is a testament to Lo's grasp of cosmo/nu/beardo-whatever disco's impressively broad spectrum, and evidence that the scene—if you want to call it that—still has ideas to burn.