Presenting l'homme du mystère: DJ Faké, pronouncer 'Fa-kay'. Sincere apologies to any French readers—I cannot write very well in French—what a fake! Mind you, 'fa-key' is certainly not in my French dictionary, so that must be fake too, just like this CD is... Kind of.
Layers are what's on offer here—the mangling of dance-floor 'classics', thus creating a stew of beats, bizarre voice-overs, and then passing the whole thing off as an edition CD-recordable fabriqué en états-unis. Like red, white and blue (or red, black and green). Listen to Un Ton Clair and you'll know what I mean.
So what is the conspiracy afoot here? Is it rebranding—taking recent and classic dancefloor hits and hiding them behind new names? Every individual by his every thought, word and action shakes the entire universe, or so the CD voice-over says during Aquarelle. And Faké manages that. The one thing that definitely isn't a fake about this release is the DJ's ear for a good tune and ability to put them together in an hour-long mix of dancefloor greatness. It's with these actions that he manages to shake the universe... well, at least my speakers, especially with the junglist rhythms of Aquarelle and nasty buzzing intro to Par Tous les Temps. Sometimes the additions are inspired—the overlaid vocals; the subtle word-play; the odd Dome-like prelude to the opener on the disc. I'm not overly sure we needed the dentist's drill sound in the middle of track two, but there you go.
So, DJ Faké, or Fak-ay, French genius, or worldly deck-spinner? The jury's out, but this is one of the more interesting examples of a mix-CD you'll find lurking around. Oh, and Bon Voyage rocks, whoever it is.
Craig Grannell (February, 2000)