Miguel Migs’s 2002 debut Colorful You was a triumph of smooth, clean but ultimately generic deep house. Filled with plenty of the titular bright colors but very few actual shades, the album coasted on its acquiescent willingness to be filed away as sophisticated background sounds. It was shallow deep house, if you will. The follow-up, 24th St. Sounds, kept the mix at a flatline, but made up for its meringue incorporation of merengue (in addition to dub, progressive, salsa, chill, jazz, and handbag house) with stronger hooks—the sheets of vocal ohs of “Secrets” or the tangy major-minor undulations of “The Jam.” His newest album, Those Things, is a step back, but an exceedingly tasteful step back. Relying heavily on downy collaborations with Lisa Shaw and Tim Fuller, the album (and its tiki cover artwork) make very clear how Migs’s music doesn’t so much conglomerate genres as it consumes them, digests them, and forces them to work by eliminating the natural friction that by all reason ought to result when percolating Soft Cell keyboard pings run up against Earth, Wind & Fire horns and a dick-rock guitar solo (as they do in “Make Things Happen”). Like the department stores in which his tunes are most likely to be heard, the ersatz multicultural sheen of his house music is calculated to coordinate with just about anything. Fittingly, nearly any given tune on the album would work better on a dance mix CD, as a palate-cleansing buffer between more forthright niche tracks. Take your pick, but might I suggest a few things I think would look so you? Try the cotton-balled beats of “Mesmerized,” which would juxtapose nicely against the barrelhouse four-on-the-floor of !!!, or, if you’d rather, mix-and-match the spare guitar riffs and thick bassline of “Get Down” with a vintage boogie track (try “Last Night A DJ Saved My Life”). The downtempo stutters of “Fire” and piano-heavy thump of “Shake It Up” correspond well with afrobeat and Bizarre, Inc., respectively. Alongside honest roughage, any of the album’s clap-happy (but not too happy) moments would register as pure, undiluted sunrays. Listen to the album as it’s presented here, though, and feel the melanoma surface.
- Slant is reaching more readers than ever before, but advertising revenue across the Internet is falling fast, hitting independently owned and operated publications like ours the hardest. We’ve watched many of our fellow media sites fall by the way side in recent years, but we’re determined to stick around.
We’ve never asked our readers for financial support before, and we’re committed to keeping our content free and accessible—meaning no paywalls or subscription fees. If you like what we do, however, please consider becoming a Slant patron.
You can also make a one-time donation via PayPal: