Theres a basic flaw in HG Wells sci fi classic The Time Machine. If I had a Time Machine Im fucked if Id risk travelling 30 odd thousand years into the future to battle it out with hairy half bred flesh gnashing beasts- I could spend a weekend in Margate for that (boom boom). Id be far more inclined to travel to a sunny day in London round 1989 where Id rock up to the nearest park and listen to the simple, blissfully optimistic, incredible UK bred house music bubbling out of ghetto blasters, house music complete with technically-dodgy rappers busting happy rhymes about loving the weekend and good times and fresh threads while the acid basslines twist away. And after my lovely day in 1989 I might well pop into my Time Machine, nip home and record a homage to it all. But Id be too late because Basslinefiz already has, and this slice of innocent joy is it.