Para One started as soon as he could. Joining a hip-hop crew at fourteen, he spent four years rapping with and producing for his friends, Arab and Italian kids from the neighbouring projects. This is where he learned the harder-better-faster ethics shaping his sound today. Echoes of this purity of purpose and dedication to efficiency can still be heard rolling in "Epiphanie", filtered through early Daft Punk. Turtle Trouble was called "A goddamn storming techno track." (Philip Sherburne, The Wire) and indeed, it's a straight-up four-to-the-floor dancefloor destruction tool, hailed in France as the second coming of Thomas Bangalter's "Tracks On Da Rocks". "Piste Bleue" is all glittery textures and time-sensitive curlicues. "Nobody Cares" vocoder funk would sound good in most strip joints. "Dudun-Dun" is, what? what is it not? It's both the hardest, most ruthless and loveliest, most idyllic techno track for a long time. These tracks are tailor-made for the club, the dancefloor, the moment when the world dissolves into strobes, heat and sound, when the dancers move whether they like it or not, barely breathing machines operated by way of drugs, snares and synths. There are six dancefloor bangers here. One track is best listened to walking through the city, looking dapper. There is, on the one hand, Cuizinier shouting proletarian playa obscenities, and on the other the overt pathos of the knee-buckling "Ski Lesson Blues", sounding like a gleaming mountain range soaring in the middle of Paris. There is a wedding song "Midnight Swim"; a song to lose your cherry to in "FUDGE"; a song to go on a rampage to "Musclor", and a song to die peacefully to (Ski Lesson Blues".