Our star is Frode Holm, a Norwegian renaissance man who introduced Oslo to bell bottoms and two-tone sofas, prog noodle and wigged out jazz-rock before diving headfirst into Silicon Valley's 1980s PC boom. Thankfully before the AWOL audiophile joined Flynn and Tron in the Grid, he did hit the studio and lay down the criminally overlooked pop masterpiece '.Login'. Boasting the best of disco, jazz, rock and new wave, as well as housing our beloved 'Fotspor', the kaleidoscopic stylings of '.Login' should have topped the charts - but with a solo Phil Collins at the height of his powers, the timing was all wrong. Thankfully the Olsen family are here to put things right with a much needed release of 'Fotspor' 2.0.
Borrowing a little extra load from those friendly guys at CERN, Terje turns on the hardware and powers out a pair of supercharged dance floor reboots on the A-side, in disco and dub form respectively. The disco mix shimmies into view on a killer Compass Point 4/4, firing out celestial sequences, Supernature keyboards and mirror ball guitar while Holm's aspirational vocals soar way overhead. Tropical synth riffs turn up the temperature and blazing horns offer bursts of sun kissed colour while the star grazing synth solo blasts us into distant dance floor orbit. On a dub tip, Terje takes us on a glue sniffing groove mission from Oslo to Kingston - Rio to Romulus. Space Echo and Bucket Brigade Delay clothe the funk guitars, clipped horns and chattering monkey drums in a nebulous haze, spiraling off around the sound space as we deck out the love boat in true Carnival style. Stand still to this? You may as well play hoopla on a unicorn's horn.
As we skip to the flip we say hello to Oslo edit machine Bobby Spice, who rearranges the original into a loose and limber funk freestyle complete with cocktail sipping crowd sounds, balloon rubbing bassoons and seesawing organs. Shaking a yuppie leg in conga line with 'Club Tropicana', 'Wham Rap' and 'Chant No. 1', this wine bar banger is the finest lifestyle choice you'll make all year. The ever intrepid Bjorn Torske takes the reins for the B2, rolling a barrel of monkeys into studio A and locking the door for the next seven minutes. Those percussive primates make light work of the master tapes, pulling the original apart and reassembling it into a sunset spectacular awash with croaking guiro, tropical bird calls and spaced out slap bass. A masterpiece of disorienting dub disco, Torske's echo heavy remix should sound perfect in the sweat and swelter of a midsummer dance floor.
Phil Collins can keep 1981. 2016 belongs to Holm CPU and his bell bottomed grooves.