Volume 12 | February 2026: Sam & I make trip-hop starter packs as a little treat.
Good morning!
Today Sam Colt and I are each sharing a few of our favorite trip hop records.
We are so back.
Welcome to the latest installment of our (not so) new series! For those of you who may have missed previous editions, here’s a bit of context:
In this monthly series, Sam Colt and I will each share our picks for artists and/or titles that haven’t received their due. You’ll recognize Sam’s name from our On Repeat and Friends Best of Series, as well as our Top 100 of all-time series last fall. These posts will adopt the latter’s format; I will make my case for my three picks and my reaction to Sam’s. Sam’s page will do the reverse.
In the inaugural post, we noted that successive editions would narrow things down slightly. Maybe a specific genre…maybe a specific era…maybe a specific…well, who knows!
One of the best lines of advice I ever heard about what makes a good podcast, newsletter, whatever is that it’ll “treat your audience like it’s already almost the end of the first quarter.” This was for an American football podcast, and the idea was to assume your audience is highly knowledgeable but not necessarily subject-matter experts. In other words, it assumes listeners already know that touchdowns are worth six points, what a safety is, etc., so you needn’t take time explaining such things. That’s something I’ve always taken to heart and is why you won’t see something like “Webster’s defines trip hop as…” as an opener. At the same time, they might not know the intricacies of a specific play or why it worked or failed. That middle ground is where you kick off from.
Trip hop’s a fun one for me for a couple of reasons. First, as many of you know, I’m a fan of just about anything with a big beat. The more my hearing diminishes, the more my need to (literally) feel the beat grows. So there’s that. It’s also a genre I know my way around, but am still finding new corners to explore and alleys to go down. Lastly, this is a genre where artists both obey and overstep the definitions. The guardrails are already broad — there’s a lot of time zones between, say, Portishead and Tricky — but artists pushing the limits make for a fun ride.
“Dummy” felt like a default option, so it’s not on the list. To be clear, it’s incredible, but it’s ground most people have already covered. That’s a major reason we picked this theme. Mapping out an entire genre — especially one this fluid — would be like kicking a 73-yard field goal in a stiff wind, but I think we covered a ton of ground. Mostly, we just want to help you find a few favorite records (or two).
When you’re done here, remember to check out Sam’s take at This Is a Newsletter!
Let’s get to it!
KA—
Sneaker Pimps- Becoming X
You likely know this band, even if you don’t recognize the name. “6 Underground” was a huge hit (and their only one, as it turns out). It was also on the soundtrack for The Saint, another case of a great soundtrack outshining a… not-so-great movie. But I digress.
Back to the record: for my money, “6 Underground” aside, it’s one of the more accessible trip-hop records out there. That’s why it’s here. If you imagine Tricky and Massive Attack on one end and Portishead on the other, Sneaker Pimps are squarely in the middle, leaning far more into the beats and a poppier sound. That all makes for an easy on-ramp with a low grade. The tracks bounce between dimensions, but the transitions are easy to navigate. This isn’t a record with tight corners. If pressed for time, refresh your memory on “6 Underground,” but also make room for opener “Low Place Like Home” and “Spin Spin Sugar” (this writer’s fave).
Singer Kelli Ali (aka Kelli Dayton) has a distinct voice and talent. A lesser singer might’ve been tripped up by a couple of the weaker tracks here. For better or worse, Ali was the face of the band — and I’m using the past tense here, as she was unceremoniously cut from the band not too long afterward. Shame, really, as the subsequent records are lukewarm at best.
Sam’s Pick and My Take: Bowery Electric- Lushlife
Broadly speaking, trip hop generally falls into two camps: the soundtrack to a late-night (or predawn) drive, or the soundtrack to some sort of heist. With its swirls and noir atmosphere, Lushlife is definitely in the former camp. That familiar air of menace that runs through the genre is there, but it’s abstract rather than acute.
If there’s one word to describe Lushlife, it’s “consistent.” The duo of Martha Schwendener and Lawrence Chandler follow the same template throughout the record: a dash of swirl and/or piano to set the tone, then a hefty bassline is laid down as scaffolding for some strings and Schwendener’s voice. It’s quite a ways from records like 1996’s Beat, which feels much more sparse and spartan — incomplete, almost. Lushlife is the opposite: fully fleshed out and whole.
If this isn’t your bag, that sameness won’t have much of a shelf life. But if you find it making you move, then it’s all upside.
Bomb the Bass- Clear
At some point in the ’90s, there was a pivot: everyone left the rave, turned up the lights, and got into books like Naked Lunch. Was this Gen X’s version of “performative reading”? Maybe, maybe not. But all kinds of records started with quotes from these works. This was a memo Tim Simenon clearly got, and 1995’s Clear is no different, with the first line we hear being: “I think it’s time to discuss your philosophy of drug use as it relates to artistic endeavour…” It’s a sample, sure, but it also reads as a thesis statement. It’s the last bit of calm before things pop off.
Opener “Bug Powder Dust” kicks in, sounding like U.N.K.L.E. and The Prodigy got together in the studio just to see what might happen. It’s quite a hot gem, but that sort of thing burns fast and not for long.
“Sleepyhead” dials things way back and is swathed in dub bass and haze. “Dark Heart” is bass and pressure. The vocal could (should?) almost exist in isolation as a straight roots cut, but Simenon wraps it in something darker, building something else entirely.
On “5ML Barrel,” the monologue is particularly gritty, with no shortage of gruesome boxes checked, all with precision and economy.
It’s also a ’90s record, so one shouldn’t be surprised to learn that cynicism and a sort of suspicion are oozing out from every corner.
Simenon isn’t alone here. He’s brought along some co-conspirators and friends, such as Justin Warfield, Bim Sherman, and Sinéad O’Connor. The latter, in particular, shines singing the chorus on closing track “Empire.” If an RFP for this song landed on your desk, you’d chuckle a little before tossing it. It shouldn’t work, but man, it sure does.
To be sure, there are a couple of tracks you can skip if you’re sober (take a bow, “Somewhere”), but with its weight-bearing basslines and spoken word, Clear is a great snapshot of what it looked like to emerge from the club into the cold light of day.
Sam’s Pick and My Take: Hooverphonic- A New Stereophonic Sound Spectacular
My hot take hereis that this sounds like a Belgian version of Massive Attack (not derogatory). And like that band, this record clearly comes from someone with one of the cooler record collections out there. A Supreme… draws on elements of ambient, bossa nova, and more. It all makes for a very polished, very urbane sound — and one that makes for very enjoyable listening.
In the intro, I noted that our ultimate goal is for you, the reader, to find a new favorite record. That goes for us, too. We’re always trying to get new records on one another’s radar, and this was one for me.
Thievery Corporation- Radio Retaliation
I have a confession: when I mentioned records and artists stretching genre definitions, this was the record I had in mind. And while it’s objectively true, I also wanted to use that as a load-bearing rationalization for including this record.
At its heart, this is a protest record. There is a common complaint that the band played it too safe here—perhaps all the more so when one considers their other work. This is, after all, a duo with a well-known penchant for switching things up. But I’d bet the other way. “Playing it safe” is also often a euphemism for “boring,” and frankly, the BPM count for most of the album is too high for that to apply.
I also don’t share the opinion that Rob Garza and Eric Hilton mailed it in. Rather, I think they doubled down on the record they thought made the most sense for when it was recorded. And it makes sense in 2026. “Sound the Alarm’s” urgency reflects the tension we’re all living through in 2026. “Mandala” follows that up with some sitar at the start and horns at the end. Who else but Thievery Corporation would bookend a track like that? The title track is a potent shot of dancehall. “The Numbers Game” is as close to a textbook definition of trip-hop as we might get, with “Sweet Tides” a close second. Both are fantastic.
Could this have used a little more punch? Sure. At 15 tracks, it’s roughly two to three songs too long, but the ones that hit are hella good and more than make up for it.
Sam’s Pick and My Take: Supreme Beings of Leisure- S/T
One last allegory, if you’ll indulge me: I’ve been rewatching Mad Men lately and am currently in the middle of Season 5. My elevator pitch for this record would be “soundtrack to one of the cooler dinner parties on the show.” It’s got a relaxed, smoothed-out vibe, but is remarkably confident for a debut. It’s got my kind of drum & bass, elements of Middle Eastern sounds (see: the sitar on “Strangelove Addiction,” a track which, FWIW, would also be right at home on The Saint soundtrack), and there’s just enough funk to keep the groove moving right along. And that’s before we get to Geri Soriano’s vocals.
In my head, I imagine it’s the sort of thing Bert might’ve found distasteful, but Peggy, Stan, and Ginsberg would be way into…
That’s a wrap! What are your thoughts on these records? Do you own any of them? Share your thoughts in the comments! Rants, raves, and spicy takes are all welcome. And if you have any ideas on future themes, please share those as well! Don’t forget to check out Sam’s thoughts over at This Is a Newsletter!
Thanks for being here,
Kevin—
Kevin Sent 