If there is another product of the late '90s fancy for superstar DJs that manages to combine mainstream eminence with club-credibility better than Armand Van Helden then I ain't heard 'em. As well as resuscitating various pop cadavers (Tori Amos, Gary Numan) Van The Man hit gold with a curiously accessible brand of club anthems with little refinement on his dirtier, nastier early sound.
Hear My Name threatens to be almost as "sticky" as You Don't Even Know Me. AVH's own-brand mixes reference all the choice retro-kitsch flavours of the moment, yet under his skilled hands, they're as fresh as a Beckham text message (allegedly). Yup, here comes that standard music-journo utility reminiscent of the finale of a demented session of Cluedo. So it is that Hear My Name is the sound of Cerrone and Richard X ripping up a soundclash in Studio 54 while Kate Moss rides in on a white horse wearing nothing but a smile. There, I said it.
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