Following the success of their Sounds From The Flightpath Estate Volume 1, the creative crew behind that charity-fund raising / chart topping comp – Martin Brannagan, Mark Ratcliff, Barry Smith, Dan Snape, and Adam Turner – have now readied Volume 2. Sticking to their now proven format, the collective have collected contributions from friends and collaborators of the late Andrew Weatherall. Where Volume 1 drew Weatherall obsessives in with a Two Lone Swordsmen obscurity, they will now be driven to distraction, and immediate purchase, by a previously unreleased Sabres Of Paradise ditty. A 12-minute opus, despite kicking off with a forceful “Still Fighting” thumping, and the trio’s trademark, treated, steely Sci-Fi percussion, the track somehow has an introspective tone. While timbales are tonked, they’re accompanied by spectral, “Haunted Dancehall” synths. The bass-line is massive, mimicking the mighty Jah Wobble. Its groove throwing off melodic, modal vamps. Repetitive squeezebox, harmonium-like riffs give way to muezzin calls. Midway through, with snake-charming ease, a melodica turns the tune toward Wilmot’s skank. For a finale it drops to what resembles classical cello.  

This new version of Lick Wid Nit Wit will undoubtedly be the album’s biggest draw. Sure, it’s a sizeable opener, but there’s plenty more bang for your buck once you’re through the door. The selections this time seem more cohesive. Perhaps a knock-on result of increased DJ action / practice the tag team now get.* So the tracks slot together more like a “set”, largely divided between tunes that feel like a furious BPM-ed flashback to the soundtrack of Weatherall’s infamous early 90s Sabresonic soirees, and those of a slightly slower tempo more suited to that party’s contemporary, direct progeny, Sean Johnston’s A Love From Out Space.  

Rough Spirit, for instance, by the mysterious Unit 14, is big room, dark trance dance. Something that would have certainly got Weatherall’s MDMA-ed barmy army marching, and bugling til dawn. Galloping, glitched, buzzing and fizzing, gnarly and snarling. Its snares smashing and crashing. Scary and not for the faint hearted, its hooks and “melodies” like drills and alarms. Richard Fearless’ Haywired hits like old school tribal techno. A hard as nails and metallic, it pays homage to the Detroit minimalism of Jeff Mills and Rob Hood. Its high hats a shimmering blur. Richard Norris’ Brave Raver also packs a considerable dance floor punch, but speed wise, it’s a little tamer. Rather than breakneck, instead, rubbery robo-disco constructed from chopped about hand claps and drums. Riding a rapidly bubbling bass-line and criss-crossed with laser blasts, Norris’ encyclopaedic psychedelic knowledge making itself felt with a repeated spoken clip: 

“Suddenly, man, Boom, I was on a trip.”

There is, however, a great deal of variation within these obsidian, shindig-shaking, sonic shades. For example there are couple of cuts of leftield, maverick acid house. The Bedford Falls Players deliver the first of these. Their In The Trees, It’s Coming, taking its title from a 1950s B-movie snippet. This Edgar Lustgarten sound-a-like doomed to be looped in terror forever over a Roland-driven rumble and bleep melody. The second has Sleaford Mods visit The Double Gone Chapel and cover Two Lone Swordsmen’s Sick When We Kiss. Their take is gritty and grimy, wilfully Lo-Fi, where, around a boisterous break, Andrew Fearn’s TB-303 does improvised, freestyle flips and Jason Williamson, in between his proudly proletarian prose, lets out the odd mock monkey shriek. David Harrow’s AanDee is techno, but heavily dub / reggae-influenced. Tumbling twists of delayed percussion wrapping themselves around the track’s bionic bogle rhythm, fractured keys and intricate IDM details. Again, adding the odd acidic squiggle. Red Snapper’s Qraqeb is rockier edged. A rough rush of ringing, chiming synth sequences and live Motorik pounding. 

Within all this peak time pummelling both of the album’s slower outliers are Red Snapper-related. Bullied by weighty, dubwise bottom end, Dicky Continental’s Large Bongos is a chunky, chugging, dare I say “Balearic”, collage of beats, borrowed brass and scrambled words – sampled from Weatherall himself. A composition that betrays its creator’s Acid Jazz / Tongue Kung-Fu roots. Weatherall favourites A Certain Ratio then get remixed by Number, the studio alias of Snapper’s Ali Friend and Richard Thair. Estate Kings becoming a track of two halves. The music, moved by muscular slapped bass, shifts from a contemplative duet for piano and muted horn to more frenetic jazz-funk, via flashes of angular new wave / no wave guitar. 

• For example, they’re about to provide support for Pye Corner Audio.

Sounds From The Flightpath Estate Volume 2 can be ordered directly from Golden Lion Sounds. Two launch parties are taking place. The first on August 21st, at London’s Stranger Than Paradise Records, and the second on the 30th at Todmorden’s Golden Lion.