A Certain Ratio - Loco Remezclada (2LP + 12") - 45RPM Clear Sparkle Vinyl

Loco Remezclada is the kind of remix album that reminds you why A Certain Ratio have outlasted trends and waves. It takes the wiry, joyful spark of 2020’s ACR Loco and lets a circle of collaborators reshape it for late nights and long drives. The bones stay unmistakably ACR. The rhythms still strut. The bass still coils. But the edges get new colors, and the grooves stretch out in a way that feels generous rather than gratuitous. It lands with the assurance of a band that came up on Factory Records, learned how to make a floor move without losing its brain, and now sits comfortably on Mute while inviting a newer generation to join the conversation.

The facts are simple, and they matter here. ACR Loco broke a long album gap and pulled the group into a prolific run. Loco Remezclada arrived the following year on Mute as its sister set, a full-length of reworks rather than a dash of bonus mixes. It is not a stopgap. It plays like a proper record that understands the band’s DNA. Jez Kerr’s bass, Martin Moscrop’s guitar and trumpet, and Donald Johnson’s drums are the anchors. The percussion that defined them in the early days gets pride of place, which gives the remixers something tactile to push against. Take the way the hi-hats chatter and the congas pop, then watch the arrangements pry open space for synths to shimmer or for a vocal line to drift in like neon.

You can hear that on the reworks of Down and Dirty, the ACR Loco standout that featured the late Denise Johnson. Her voice has always cut through the band’s steely funk, and on these versions she becomes a guide, threading between kick drums and minor-key keys. It is bittersweet, but also a celebration of what she brought to Manchester music. The best remixes here don’t tear the song down. They pull threads and reweave them, letting her ad-libs ride longer, letting the rhythm section circling beneath her become a kind of memorial in motion.

Yo Yo Gi is another cut that benefits from the treatment. On the original, it snapped along with a light, almost park-stroll bounce. In remix form, it grows into something sleeker, the hand percussion tucked under a glossy synth bed that sneaks up on you. I found myself flipping the record back just to catch the way the bassline re-enters after a breakdown, a tiny detail that says the producers were listening as fans first. That is the thread through Loco Remezclada. Respect for the parts that make A Certain Ratio A Certain Ratio, paired with a willingness to twist the lighting and see new angles.

As a headphones listen, it works because the mix engineers leave air around the drums and horns. As a dance record, it works because the tempos stay limber and the edits trust momentum. There is dub in its bones, disco in its hips, post-punk in its stance. If you came to ACR through those legendary Factory 12-inches, this feels like a kindred ritual, the kind of record you’d file next to Shack Up and Force while still grabbing it for a modern DJ set. If you discovered them via Mute’s recent run, it doubles as a map to how their sound threads through contemporary club music.

For vinyl people, Loco Remezclada on wax is the way to live with it. The low end breathes, the percussion breathes, the transitions feel unhurried. A Certain Ratio albums on vinyl tend to reward that tactile relationship. You cue into a side, you let the room change, you flip. I keep seeing copies of A Certain Ratio vinyl moving fast for that reason. If you are hunting for Loco Remezclada vinyl, check your favorite local, whether that’s a Melbourne record store or the trusted spot down the street. And if you need to buy A Certain Ratio records online, this one belongs in the cart alongside ACR Loco so you can hear the conversation in full.

What I love most is how unforced it feels. Remix albums can go opportunistic or overstuffed. This one is curated, paced, and plainly made by people who understand the band’s economy. It adds to the story rather than padding it. In a run that also brought a trio of EPs and renewed touring energy, Loco Remezclada stands as more than a companion piece. It is a reminder that A Certain Ratio have always been about the exchange between players, dancers, and producers. Put it on, let it move you, then file it where you’ll reach for it again.