Secretsundaze is making a significant claim for the sound of the London underground. Their intimate soirees in any location they can find (they were the first to adopt the now statutory disused warehouse premise and also threw parties in the Ibizan hills before it became du jour) have reconfigured the idea of what clubbing on the Sabbath should be, all the time with an ear glued to the sound of now and, more importantly, how it relates to the past. This album is billed as a representation of their sound, mixed with love and care from the two men behind the planning and the music of the parties, Giles Smith and James Priestley, and if that statement holds true, then the hype is truly well deserved.

The first disc sees DJ Mag’s techno guru Giles Smith at the helm, favouring a selection that highlights the return of deep house to the limelight alongside some pulsating techno grooves. While the clicky percussion of Monne Automne lets the pace drift slowly off before some heads down grooves from the Offsetters and Einzelkind, Smith finds time to raid warm, chord driven moments such as the Johnick’s evocative ‘Johnick Planet’, sitting them against shuffling house grooves from yesteryear - both Ian Pooley and DJ Q throw up early noughties slabs. He even makes a sly nod to the recent reformation of Strictly Rhythm with X-Press 2’s dub of the evergreen afro house anthem ‘Love and Happiness’ from River Ocean and India bringing in the sunshine, whilst setting it off against Gabriel Ananda and Dominik Eulberg’s haunting edit of Strobelight Network shows the power of darkness and light working in harmony.

James Priestley’s disc plumps for a bouncier selection with a subtle underpinning of electro funk alongside the warm house, album opener Reverso 68’s Piece Together strolling on like a gentler Zapp before things get stripped back to a simple shuffling groove with Ripperton’s remix of Catalyst. Priestley’s own edit, alongside Dan Berkson, of Kissogram brings a warm swathe of melody in with its chiming synths, a feat equalled by the visceral house of Manuel Tor’s ‘Acorado. There’s deep Detroit chords from Future Beat investigators, spacey disco from Yello, and even a slab of vintage ital boogie from Doctor’s Cat which closes proceedings. It’s this rousing finale which pips Smith’s selection to the post, but its all part of a fantastic double collection and the best mix cd we’ve heard all summer. If you can’t get down to London for their forages this is quite clearly the next best thing.