Their new album, 2002's Raw Digits, sounds like a band with more to prove but less interest in manic entertainment: relaxed but sleepless, less satisfied but better for it. "Gravity Rearrangin" is probably my single favorite moment on the album, though it's not representative of the rest; meanwhile, several other tracks are bubbling under as contenders for 2003.

On "Evelyn," Dabrye (aka Tadd Mullinix of Ann Arbor, Michigan) would much rather bring you the Quiet Storm vibe than leave you unsettled, and even if his vinyl's a little scratchy it's hard to resist his moves. In five years he'll be making bank as a producer for the major labels, so catch him while he's hot.

As with many of the other old-school tunes on this year's mix, I came across it while looking for wedding songs — "You've become a sweet taste in my mouth/and I want you to be my spouse" is one of the great awkward-beautiful couplets I've heard — and then found I couldn't get it out my head as the year went on. Still puts a smile on Jen's face whenever I play it, and thus worthy of inclusion. (And yes, apparently his name really is King Floyd III — no word on whether Count Floyd is any relation.)

But back to the tune: the Steely Dan sample (from "Peg") seemed to fit the overall retro-jazzy groove, though it didn't mix with "Independence Day" as smoothly as I'd hoped. I keep a mental list of certain tunes that have to appear on a CatLab mix sooner or later, and now that list is one song shorter.

But on those other four days — typically Monday through Thursday: there's something about the drudgery of the work week that makes his music supremely liberating — he can't be beat. There are many better examples of his prodigious gifts than "Independence Day," but since it's one of his few songs with a mixable beat (courtesy of producer Tom Rothrock, who also handled the beats on R.L. Burnside's "Don't Stop Honey," from CL02), I included it.

As for mix placement, I put this where I did because RJ slyly samples Elliott Smith's "I Didn't Understand" (like the preceding "Independence Day," from Elliott's album XO) for the sighing, ghostly verse, so I figured I'd reintroduce the two and see if they recognized each other. But it's the horns that make the track. And did I mention the horns?

Gabriel "Asheru" Benn has worked for the DC public school system and developed Project Nomo, an arts workshop for DC area youth. You can hear his heart and determination all over this track, but there's also something of the wintry District sky in the descending piano melody, something in the strong, fast march of the "snare, bass and drum" that reminds me of chilly walks on broad, open avenues. Here's looking forward to album #2.

As it turns out, the answer was no: apparently it's used in Keith Murray's "Get Lifted" from 1994, though I have yet to hear it. But, as with "Groove Me," once I'd heard this song I couldn't shake it. It manages to be seductive and unsettling at the same time, and thus may be the only tune that really fits the cover art: I can definitely picture Jame Gumb grooving to this in his basement workshop. "It puts the lotion on its skin" indeed.

Whatever the case, I took heart that young bucks like Quantic's Will Holland were clearly moved by the same spirit. Similar in style to his labelmate Bonobo (whose tune "Sleepy Seven" kicked off CatLab 2002), Quantic starts this track too edgeless and friction-free for my tastes — but when the percussion and that nasty guitar riff kick in, I'm sold.

That's really all I know about this one (and it was hard finding out that much). I learned of the tune when Quantic raved about it in some "current favorites" questionnaire last summer: too wild-eyed and amelodic to be lounge music, too loose-limbed and organic to be techno, it slurs and mangles several genres quite enjoyably.

Much of the nu-jazz scene strikes me as a rehash of mid-'80s synthetic British "soul" like Sade and Level 42, and makes me worry that I'll start wearing a robe and slippers if I listen too long. Two things save this track from schmaltz: one, the gorgeous voice of Valerie Etienne; two, the vicarious thrill of hearing an artist who cut his teeth on drum 'n' bass, that most willfully ugly of genres, as he rediscovers the promise of melody — even if he's not always sure how it works, or even which way is up. Present at the creation, in other words.

Anyway, he's not exactly prolific, and we're still waiting for the second album, so in the meantime I've taken my favorite track from the Abraham album: though not rhythmically as inventive as prime Hefner, Jones makes lovely, shimmering flourishes and ripples around the edges of a pleasant, Dido-esque pop tune. Rachel's voice is pretty, in a wispy, vaguely chilly way.

Or I would have been, if I hadn't heard about it two years after the fact, when it was clear the resulting album had flopped, gone out of print immediately, and that the band (whose name, Binger the Voyager, may mean something to Swedes but says "Monty Python" to me) had already broken up. Still, I found a second-hand copy, listened a few times and... it's not bad. I can't urge all of you to seek it out, but it's nice. "Shoot" is the best track on it, but there are a few others nearly as good. Meanwhile, I continue to hope for a second Hab album.

I've been meaning to include a dub reggae tune on CatLab for years now, but somehow they always got edged out at the last minute, bumped to make room for some hip new thing that six months later I couldn't even hum for you. So I decided this year would be different, but I figured the position would either go to Augustus Pablo or Scientist — and then I discovered Keith Hudson's classic album Pick-A-Dub, recently re-released by the good people at Blood and Fire. Both grungy and suave, sophisticated and brutal: if Michael Talbot wasn't a spy before this song was released, he would have been ensured a successful life of mystery and intrigue on the strength of the sax solo alone.

SL2 never released an album, which was the norm in the eyeblink of a scene that spawned them. They were the Prodigy's labelmates on XL Recordings, before XL was the home of Badly Drawn Boy, before the Prodigy's "scene" included Marilyn Manson and Limp Bizkit. Like the best rave tunes, the amateurism of "On A Ragga Tip" greatly complemented its simplicity, getting by on nerve and a healthy free-association. This tune got into the top five of the UK pop charts, which says something about that moment in musical history.

And on that note, we out — at least till next Christmas.