Every now and again, a defining musical moment comes along. This isn't it. That honour belongs to Shadow's first Mo' Wax outing 'In/Flux', which was released into a world that didn't have Tricky as leader of the pop opposition, and where James `Mandelson' Lavelle was not yet casting the full weight of his spin on dance culture. With its unusual aura of collage and the sense that it was produced by a head in a space-time continuum of its own, it could truly be said to sound like nothing else. No, Endtroducing..., a year and a half in the making, is more of a conclusion than a beginning, a summation of the possibilities of splicing and connecting more than an indication of their future potential. Josh Davis says it is only a beginning, and I hope he proves me wrong. But the only way he will surpass this smoothly crafted album is to change direction, and to do that, he'll have to change his music making formula.

The formula that produced `In/Flux', `What Does Your Soul Look Like' (two parts of which are included here) and now such gems as `Stem/Long Stem' and 'The Number Song' is simple: 100% samples. Well, 99% at least. And if you think that makes music-making easy, think again. The man's a vinyl junkie who hears music and at the same time hears how it would sound if he spliced it together with a record from another planet entirely. He only uses vinyl, and it has to be the original - he won't sample rarities-made-easy compilations. The result is an astonishingly varied mix of sounds and moods that is all ultimately identifiable as hip hop. Players of `guess the sample' have never had more to get their teeth into.

At times it's as frantic as Fear Of A Black Planet, at others as cool as Sketches Of Spain. 'The Number Song' proves Shadow can kick as well as brood, and the combative horn section that suddenly blows in mid-track puts me in mind of Young Soul Rebel-era Dexy's as much as anything. On `Napalm Brain/Scatter Brain', Shadow manages to splice beats into his own idiosyncratic verson of drum and bass. But there are also plenty of the blue beats for which he has become known, the single `Midnight In A Perfect World' being the perfect example.

Shadow throws down the gauntlet by naming one track `Why Hip Hop Sucks In 1996'. Answer: `It's the money'. Somehow I imagine Josh is not a big fan of the various Wu-Tang permutations, even the best of them. Whatever, it's maybe a brave thing for a European American to be saying about an artform that's not essentially his, for all his immersion in its history. Although he might be right to assert that `innovation and experimentation' were `the original standards of hip hop', Shadow naturally focuses on the backing, forgetting that the rapping remains an essential half of the equation. Pioneers are as rare as ever, and maybe the music needs a fresh injection, but to my mind Genius' Liquid Swords sounded as bold and exciting as any record last year, whilst in 1996 Nas has proved that for verbal flow, he is untouchable. It would be foolish to suggest either of these two would be suitable, but imagine DJ Shadow coming out of his isolation and teaming up with a lyrical mind to match his musical one. And then again, perhaps it would never work, and it's better to leave Shadow in his own universe.

Finally, Mo' Wax are excelling themselves design-wise in a way no label has since Factory's hey-day, and are leading the way when it comes to cherishable CD packages. From the gatefold shot of vinyl junkie heaven (an overstuffed record shop) to the cloth inner sleeve, Endtroducing... is no exception.

No less than 8 angles on the 1992 masterpiece from Detroit technomaster Carl Craig, whose Landcruising album last year contained, amongst other gems, the supreme electronic beauty of `A Wonderful Life'. For his jazz mix Craig has recruited no lesser a person than Sun Ra drummer Fransisco Mora to replace the box o' tricks with what you might call free techno. The 4 Hero mix features a bass so subterranean that it's the musical equivalent of the steel-girded concrete foundations that keep skyscrapers up. Add to these some Detroit d'n'b from Claude Young and breakneck techno from Kirk Degiorgio, and you have a CD of remixes with a surprisingly high success rate.

Apropos of this being another Mo' Wax release, I would disagree with Dele Fadele's analysis (NME 11/10/96) that the label's strong corporate identity subsumes the individuality of its artists. He simply proves his lack of familiarity with them, before going on to give the particular artiste in question a rave review. Carl Craig is one of a number of innovators helping Mo' Wax create a genuine diversity which could keep them at the head of the pack for longer than most record labels manage. To paraphrase the words of my consultant Dr. Octagon (I'm being treated for a rare case of Taking Music Journalists Seriously Syndrome), `Mo' Wax moves on to the year 3000'...

The follow-up to dreamy debut 'Lying In Bed', this is the second Secret Agent single from 007 Rudy Tambala, former spy for industrial-dance superpower AR Kane. 'Dulcet' and 'sugar-coated' will get to be cliches when used about Sufi, so we at Tangents had better get in there first: this is a cooler dose of sugar-coated blue beats, which once again features Margaret Tambala's dulcet tones, this time trying out her bedroom French. It all merges together in an embraceably mystical slice of la vie en rose.

Best of the mixes is 'Ca Va Assassin', where the acoustic guitar gives way to a scrunchy electro number with cascading beats and colliding accordion and strings. Reminds me of a street music festival I once chanced upon in Reims - dozens of groups all playing at once along the main esplanade, the different musicians combining to produce archetypal cacophony. Sweet and sour Sufi, anyone?

Daniel Williams, October 1996.

Mo Wax as the hip hop 4AD of the '90s? With this latest Andrea Parker release the argument holds some sway. The sleeving could be straight from the boards of 23 Envelope whilst the sounds drop blunted beats in with a vocal that could be lifted off the finer moments of Dead Can Dance. Rob Dougan is also involved, so it comes as no surprise that there's some classical sounding strings, played here by the English String Orchestra, echoing the sounds he used with so devastating effect on his 'Clubbed To Death' masterpiece. It all helps conjure up visions of mist and candlelit rooms of your forebears; cinematic, a bit over blown but all the finer for it, bringing to mind as it does the mood of Caroline Lavelle's 'Moonlaugh Shore' single of last year with William Orbit, which was mighty fine stuff. Mo Wax has always been one to shrug off easy categorisation, and this release helps that cause no end.

Alistair Fitchett, October 1996.