The KLF

Between 1987 and 92, music-biz vets Jimmy Caufy and Bill Drummond had enormous critical and commercial success in Britain with their extravagantly catchy and clever technopop, all while snapping at the hand that fed them. First, they released their music under a string of different names -- the Justified Ancients of Mu Mu (or the JAMS), then the Time-lords, and finally the KLF (or Kopyright Liberation Front) -- and then they compounded the confusion with extreme Situationist statements/publicity stunts, including burning a million pounds of their own money, and spraying an unsuspecting awards show audience with blanks from a semiautomatic rifle before announcing their retirement.

Despite that ruckus, the three surviving albums are nothing more or less than succinct and pleasurable exemplars of a bygone era: England in the throes of its acid-house high. The History of the JAMS a.k.a. the Timelords compiles cuts from the JAMS' first two English albums, plus a few huge hit singles like the Gary Glitter/Dr. Who stomp "Doctorin' the Tardis." Despite the various sources, the tracks are all of a piece, mixing thick Scottish raps, booming club beats, and lengthy samples from famous pop totems (Hendrix, Sly Stone, Whitney Houston). The effect is something like Mike Myers' Fat Bastard imitating the Beastie Boys over a randomly skipping karaoke machine, but it's also redolent of a moment when the possibilities of club music felt boundless. The duo next did an aboutface with Chill Out, an undulating, ghostly suite of muted synthesizers and dissociated samples -- nighttime noises, radio hucksters, Elvis singing "as the snow flies." The JAMS' assault failed to topple the world, but this hermetic move succeeded in helping create a new one, ambient house. The White Room marked the duo's return to the dance floor with another remarkably coherent hodgepodge of singles and EP tracks, this time with real rappers and soul singers and a minimum of samples. Finally, the KLF became what they'd mocked with this enduring embrace of Euro-trash club culture. They knew their exit cue. (FRANKLIN SOULTS)

From 2004's The New Rolling Stone Album Guide