One record at a time: 541. Leftfield - This Is What We Do

I bought this album after spotting it in a "Three for £50" offer on Amazon, which is the sort of dangerous retail ambush that makes a me suddenly realise I could fit more vinyl on my shelves after all. This double vinyl edition is pressed by Pallas, whose work is a little variable, but this copy sounds pretty good to my ears. The low end has suitable weight, the detail comes through nicely.

This is Leftfield’s fourth studio album, released in 2022, and it arrived seven years after "Alternative Light Source". It was created by founding member Neil Barnes alongside Adam Wren, who has been the band’s engineer since the early days. That continuity matters, because although this album is clearly not trying to be "Leftism Part Two", it does still feel connected to the same restless, bass-heavy, machine-loving lineage. 

As proceedings open, the title track proves to be a fantastic hook into the album. This song draws the listener in with earth-shaking bass, catchy vocal samples and enough cowbell to keep even Christopher Walken happy. It has that classic Leftfield ability to sound both enormous and strangely precise. “Full Way Round” follows as a gritty, electro-infused beast featuring Fontaines D.C. frontman Grian Chatten. His vocal is a half-spoken piece of performance poetry, which is great if you like that sort of thing.

There are more spoken vocals on “Making A Difference”, this time from Lemn Sissay, underpinned by a rubbery house groove. These vocal contributions help the tracks stand apart from the more routine four-on-the-floor material that can proliferate in electronic music, and they give the album a sense of intent and identity. That said, they do not always land completely for me. At times they can sound a touch preachy, as if the track has briefly paused the dancing to hand out a leaflet. Still, the production is strong enough, and the groove persuasive enough, to stop things becoming worthy rather than enjoyable.

One thing you certainly cannot accuse Leftfield of is abandoning electronic music. Tracks such as “City of Synths”, “Machines Like Me” and “Pulse” are fierce, unashamed attempts to harness the sound of machines to convey emotion. That may sound like the sort of thing a robot would write in its personal statement, but it works. There is texture, drive and menace here, with synths that throb, buzz and occasionally sound as if they are trying to escape through the nearest wall. It is electronic music with physical presence, which has always been one of Leftfield’s great strengths.

Earl Sixteen returns to deliver a vocal contribution on “Rapture”, and whilst it is a good track, it does not quite recreate the magic of “Release the Pressure” from the band’s first album. That is hardly a crime, as very few things do. “Release the Pressure” remains one of those tracks that seems to exist on its own private mountain, looking down benignly at the rest of us while the bassline does press-ups. Elsewhere, the triple-time joy of “Heart and Soul” is a personal favourite, bringing a welcome lift and momentum, while the drums on “Accumulator” are worth the entry fee alone. 

Overall, this is an enjoyable and often impressive album. It may not reach the towering heights of Leftfield’s debut, but expecting every release to do that feels a little unfair, like asking every meal to be Christmas dinner. What matters is that one of dance and electronic music’s great pioneering names still sounds engaged, curious and capable of making music with real force. 3/5