There has to my mind always been something problematic about vocals in dance music. Perhaps not vocals per se, but rather the implications of a certain class of vocals: the hard soulful vocal as signifier of humanity in contrast to the "real" Voice of Dance: the vocoder. Some producers in the field of dance music when confronted with accusations of, say techno or tech step, being cold and inhuman, fall for the route of inserting vocals as an easy ticket to musical warmth (somehow equalling the gross fallacy of women-on-the-dance floor). This logic has resulted in forced records like Breakbeat Era or in general, the love of straight garage for diva histrionics.

All of which makes Herbert's Bodily Functions such a nice surprise: the dance album with vocals that actually works! Matthew Herbert's brand of tech house you're probably familiar with. On albums like Around the House or last years outstanding mix-cd Let's Make Mistakes his glitches, clicks and cuts produced rhythmic seduction instead of alienation. The rhythm on Bodily Functions is again typical Herbert: lots of found sounds and noises (his child before and after birth, doors slamming, the sound of laser-surgery) form that instantly recognizable rhythm. A dry yet funky rhythm that lends itself as a perfect contrast to the drifting voice of Dani Siciliano. No wailing here, but a sensual arsenal of soft whispers, relaxed and warm, sometimes a little effect added to keep things unpredictable.

Bodily Functions reminds me of a personal pipe dream: lover's techno. A couple of years after he had punished us with a typical 2-hour set of hard mathematical drumscapes Richie Hawtin did something quite unforgettable by following it with an hour of brilliant minimal techno full of soft touches, angel's sighs, caressing of the soul. In that short span lover's techno was born, alas not be found again, save the occasional warmer edges of the Chain Reaction output. That is until now. Bodily Functions does not try to hide its intentions, with its title's suggestion of sex and the cover drawing of man and woman holding hands. This is an amazing collection of intimate techno and house, sonically intriguing (special mention must be made of Herbert's spacious piano playing) and non-condescending lyrics dealing with relations, doubts and lust. The songs here belong to the rare breed of what Ian Penman, writing about Tim Buckley, called adult lullabies. Drift off then, to the lover's voice, the dance of whispers and caresses, the rhythm of desire.