Norwegian (Nu) Disco: Prins Thomas
Proof that the healing powers of (nu) disco are universal.
Welcome back friends, brothers, sisters and all those in between. Today, we’re opening our hymnals to the book of Prins Thomas.
A former break-dancer (we’re pretty sure we read that somewhere), bass player and candlestick-maker (we’ll be editing his Wikipedia entry to add that last bit), Thomas is without a doubt a gudfar of Norwegian (Nu) Disco (NND, for those of you who missed this week’s overview because you’ve been too busy pretending to work remotely while actually sitting by the pool where it’s too hot and sunny and wet to receive this day your daily [classified] bread).
Producer, DJ, mixer extraordinaire and co-founder of three record labels (Feedelity, Full Pupp and Internasjonal) … we’re not sure when Prins Thomas sleeps. Got a whole afternoon to spend just listening to music? Unlike us, that is. And yet… here we are. Because, well, we are honor-bound to spread the word. And besides: it’s a global pandemic, so, really, are priorities even a thing anymore or is life just one long amorphous work/home blob-day in which time has ceased to exist? What we were saying? Oh. Right. Killing time. Type “Prins Thomas Diskomiks” into the search bar on Spotify. You’re welcome.
Caveat: not every Diskomiks is a (NU) DISCO MIX. Ya dig? Because while we all know that NND gospel is universal, baby, we’re using “disco” in the 7D sense of the word (overview, heathen!). And outside America, “disco” has a broader meaning. (American contingent: you’ll get to it in Lesson 26 of the now defunct Travel and Tourism chapter on your Rosetta Stone app: “Ou est la discotheque?”) Still, all of the mixes are all worth a listen, and will give you a clear picture of the sheer talent that flows from Prins Thomas’ hands.
But today, brothers and sisters, today it’s all about glorious NND. Can we get a RIGHT ON.
Like Tood Terje, Prins Thomas does create his own music, and his album with Lindstrøm is a seminal example of the genre. But also like Terje, it’s his mixes that really pulled us from the darkness into the NND light. Where he shines is applying an NND sensibility to a wide swath of genres. To wit, our first offering – his remix of Gundelach’s Games:
The original has a real club hit feel … hints of Lauv and Sia and Lorde sprinkled in with Gundelach’s undeniable love of house music. There’s even a subtle hint of Kevin (that’s code for spacey, all of you non-overview-reading heathens) because, well, Norway? Thomas’ version diverges right out of the gate. From that first disco clap on the fourth beat there is no doubt where this is headed. You hear a subtle hint of the original vocals, and then the bass line kicks in – a funky hook in contrast to the driving bass kick of the original. You can’t help but find yourself Hustling along. No, really – you can do the actual Hustle to this track, except most of you will probably really be doing the Electric Slide because some wedding DJ in 1987 conflated the two. (Thanks, Eric, because we’re sure that’s your name.)
Next up: The Chemical Brothers’ Swoon. Yes, you heard us right.
The original is so, well, Chemical Brothers. This is big venue, festival, anthemic dancing. Anonymous. Amorphous. The sparse vocals like the blank yet hungry stare of a glowstick-wielding 20-something whose serotonin levels are through the roof (Molly, you great equalizer, you). The Chemical Brothers want you to “remember to fall in love” … but not necessarily with anyone in particular; more in the general “oh my god this shag rug feels amazing” sense of the word. IT’S RIGHT THERE IN THEIR NAME, PEOPLE.
Thomas and Lindstrøm pull it back. You’re no longer at the festival, but at an exclusive, swankier, sexier after-hours disco. The dance floor is comfortably full with all the sexy people (Skarsgards, minus one). People are starting to move in sync, disco-clapping along for the first eight bars. By the time the bass line kicks in, the crowd is parting — as if Thomas were Moses himself, come to part the red disco sea. As the guitar slides in, you’ve got a full-on Soul Train dance line.
This isn’t faceless, “everything is so fucking green” love … NO. This is up close, personal, slower, lower. THIS. IS. SEXY. (Oh Skarsgards, minus one. SWOON.)
Okay, okay. Moving on. One last example, because we’re going for range here: Morcheeba’s Summertime.
The original is so chill, man. Coincidence that the name of the album is “Blaze Away?” We think not. Morcheeba’s roots are in trip hop; here they give way to something that seems like it would be right at home in an 80s movie montage. You know the one, where the nerdy girl gets a makeover before her big date and surprise! she was beautiful all along. Such a great life lesson arewerite? (That guitar solo in the middle? That’s where they cut to her date, chilling with his buds, making like he’s not totally into the nerdy girl.)
Thomas and Lindstrøm, because they’re fucking brilliant, turned it into a Donna Summer hit. (Just take a listen to Summer’s I Feel Love.) They transport the song from the sleepy Santa Barbara high school dance to Studio 54, where your date is probably going to arrive naked, on a golden horse. Or so we’ve heard.
Is it just us, or has pandemic living made for a really long time since we had a good Wallbanger?
Final note: You may have noticed that it’s pretty common to see Lindstrøm and Thomas together, so you may have surmised that Lindstrøm is the other preeminent gudfar of NND. We’ll hip you to the book of Lindstrøm, as well as some of other collaborations between the two, tomorrow.
Until then, Disco be with you. (And also with Nu.)