PAUL moved to London in the early 80s, living in a squat and eking out a living as a session percussionist. "To be honest, a lot of that period's a blur," shrugs Paul with a hapless grin, "because I was having such a mad time going to a lot of the warehouse parties that were happening at the time. I'd go out on Friday night with a pound in my pocket and come back at lunchtime the next day. I went to some mad places in the East End, where they were playing a lot of the early hip hop from New York. It had the same buzz as punk, something different, exciting."
Both remember dancing at parties like Dirtbox, Norman Jay and Judge Jules' Shake And Fingerpop and going to Bank Holiday all-dayers held in the basement of multi-storey car parks. "It was all completely illegal, but the police did nothing about it, because they didn't even know it was going on," Paul says, sighing wistfully for the Met's lost innocence.
Elsewhere, the future of music was being etched out on now obsolete circuitboards and Neil was entranced by the crisp electronic sounds of early electro. When he saw Afrika Bambaataa's Soulsonic Force in 1983 it was the first time he'd seen a drum machine being used in anger, let alone a DJ who cut and scratched his records into a seamless collage of funk, rather than simply played them. It was a revelatory experience.
"There was a big geezer slapping records on the deck and mixing them, while this machine played over the top. I went up to one of them afterwards and asked him what it was - it was a Linn Drum - and I remember thinking I had to have one, but that I'd never be able to afford it. "

NOBODY had heard anything quite like it before - a dance record that was undoubtedly British, but retaining all the funk and sass of American house. It took about six months for the remix to become a staple part of every self-respecting British house DJs set, but when it did, it was massive. Bedroom producers across the country took notice, starting work on dubby house tracks, featuring driving percussion loops and arm-raisingly uplifting breakdowns. By late 1991, the sound Mixmag later termed progressive house held sway with clubland's tastemakers.
"We were completely surprised by it all, " Neil freely admits, while Paul enthuses, "It was wicked, you'd go to a club and everyone would be going fucking mental to your record."
Although DJs and clubbers were eager to hear the next Leftfield tune, they had to be content instead with a constant stream of remixes. Legal hassles with Outer Rhythm, the label that released 'Not Forgotten', left the duo unable to use the fledgling group's name on their own records. But the remixes themselves were good enough, with the unique, compulsive Leftfield grooves they contributed to tunes like React 2 Rhythm's 'Intoxication' being sampled again and again by other remixers.
"We come from a background of grooves, " nods Paul, expounding on the unstoppable Leftfield groove monster. "Whether it's jazz, funk, hip hop, we've always been into grooves."
"And punk encouraged us to be experimental, " adds Neil, "to do things like sticking a sitar on 'Not Forgotten'."
Their abilities at the mixing desk were paid the ultimate compliment when in 1992, they were asked to remix 'Jump They Say' by one of their heroes, David Bowie.
"After doing the Bowie remix we had everyone wanting to work with us - Paul McCartney, U2," Paul grimaces distastefully. "But everything we've ever done has been something we wanted to work on, not because we've been offered X amount of pounds, but because we like the track. We started to feel like a marketing tool." They gave remixing a rest to concentrate on their own projects, Paul's new-found success as a DJ and their new independent label Hard Hands.
By mid-1993, they had already slacked off on their remix workload and while clubs across the world rocked to the sound they helped create, they turned their back on all things progressive and released two now classic, mould-breaking singles: the slow motion inspiration of 'Release The Pressure', featuring roots reggae singer Earl Sixteen, and the epic cinemascope trance of 'Song Of Life'. Not to mention signing an unknown proto-jungle white label by Dee Patten called 'Who's The Badman' to Hard Hands and turning it into a huge anthem on the hardcore and progressive scenes alike.
Then came 'Open Up', shooting John Lydon's unmistakable, electrifying, whining, snotty vocals back into the Top Ten and truly opening up new generations of clubbers and rockers alike to the genre-smashing potential of the Leftfield sound.
"I'd known John since I was 19, " explains Neil. "We had a mutual friend who took me round to where he lived. He was a right cunt, even worse than he is now, he completely took the piss out of me. But he was a total fucking hero. I mean, how could he not be? We'd wanted to do a track with him for about two years, but it took all that time to get him to commit to doing it and to get the track good enough."
Unsurprisingly, the pair have nothing but admiration for the former Sex Pistol's vocal abilities: "John's basically just really into his music," they say. Coming from Leftfield, this is a big compliment.

THE first single planned for release is 'Original', a superbly dreamlike collaboration with Curve's indie pin-up Toni Halliday that should confirm Neil and Paul's reputation as musical genre-smashers par excellence.
While most dance producers seem happy enough with an identikit overlunged diva and a brace of disco acappellas, Leftfield stick to their punky guns, searching out singers they can relate to - vocal talents with guts and individuality.
"I love taking people with nothing to do with dance music, like Toni, or Danny Red, and putting them in a different environment, " enthuses Neil. "It's getting back to the original ethic of remixing, taking anything and turning it into dance music." Having already recorded with one living legend, they harbour secret desires to get Irish folk singer Christy Moore and Led Zeppelin's Robert Plant in the studio and bend them to their musical will. Meanwhile, they've got the album to promote and a whole brace of new talent signed to Hard Hands.
"People go on about Detroit all the time, " Paul smiles, "but we've got some music from places like Glasgow, Maidenhead and Hornchurch that will just blow people away. Young, fresh musicians with their own style: it's deep, soulful, jazzy techno. Techno is the new jazz. If the modern jazz musicians of the 60s were young now, I've no doubt they'd be making techno. "
And then they're off again, rabbiting enthusiastically about ambient/techno/jungle experimentalists Global Communications or how Paul is dropping jazzy jungle tunes at house clubs, the best part of two decades since they were first blown away by the Sex Pistols. Still on it, still with a keen nose for the cutting edge. Always enthusiastic, always in the right place at the right time, Leftfield have lived the life to the full. And as jungle, techno, house, hip hop and ambient fall into each others arms all around us, they've lived the life needed to make the perfect record for 1995.

'Leftism' is out January 30th on Hard Hands



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