For all intents and purposes the ‘Space Disco’ sound that has been revitalized by Norwegian’s Prins Thomas and partner in crime Hans Lindstrom is almost Balearic at heart. It seemed ludicrous in summer 2005 when Lindstrom’s sprawling and dramatic disco anthem I Feel Space crashed the minimal/electro party like Hawkwind busting on stage at a Sex Pistols gig, but it proved to be the catalyst for a new brand of ‘anything goes’ dance music; melodic, emotive, non linear and with a kitsch driven sense of timelessness, its all encompassing vibe almost throws back to the Paradise Garage days of old. Truth be told Lindstrom and Thomas just seem to be taking the next logical step in dance floor revitalization and it could be said they are doing for disco what The Glimmers are doing for acid and Dixon/Ame/Henrik Schwarz have been doing for house music.

Regardless of whether you go for their spacey, swirling take on dance music and its ‘more is more’ ethos, you can’t deny the years of crate digging required that in itself should be applauded. If it wasn’t for guys like Thomas we would forget that Can’s weird front man Holger Czukay released kooky solo albums or that Joe Meek made sublime 60s pop as grand as Phil Spector, and we would forget jazz noodle king Bob James made clunky break beat records or that Mod girl group The Paper Dolls turned out epic psychedelic pop.

Thomas puts all these forgotten heroes of his front and center on this wide ranging and fascinating mix album along with aforementioned hippie prog rockers Hawkwind, funk emperors Parliament and a stellar cast of studio space cadets. Cosmo Galactic Prism (what a title!) might be a template for the space disco sound but it does Thomas justice as one of the sound’s foremost masters: he truly touches every corner of the sonic universe over these two trippy discs. Czukay steals the show early on the first disc with his supremely quirky summer anthem Cool In The Pool from 1980, all broken English and daredevil funk. Rey De Copas deconstructs late 90s Latin house with forlorn horns and a skeletal groove on Frontera El Desueno and the gospel chug of Sing by Electric South gets hands flaying in the air with its delirious chants and brooding, acidic tweak. Thomas conjures a magic bracket that starts with Soylent Green’s moody disco cut Camera Obscura and ends with the sublime cosmic pop of Metalchicks Conspiracy in between he weaves Boards Of Canada’s timeless electro masterpiece Nlogax and compatriot Lindstrom’s Italo piano epic Another Station.

He closes out the first disc and starts the second with Hawkwind, no doubt spiritual mentors to the Space Disco kids for their languid experimental psyche outs. Prins dwells on their dreamy synths only briefly before rushing in the weirdness with the squelch and stomp of Happamat Kallot by Uusi Fantasia. The Funk strut of The Salsoul Inventions’ Soul Machine digs its heels in with a relentless groove until Thomas turns us unexpectedly into Axer’s primitive and acidic 123. The second disc dives deeper and darker as Thomas moves his focus to a drugged up dance floor using the more linear ( African Club’s percussive Line Generation, Mattias Aguyayo’s propulsive Radiotaxi ) and the more contemporary ( Isolee’s classic rerub of Cardiology, Tres Demented’s huuuuge She’z Satan ) to hypnotise and seduce. By the time the elastic funk of Parliaments Night Of The Thumpasaurous eases proceedings to a smoky halt you feel exhausted but wholly satisfied.

Cosmo Galactic Prism is not going to convert the skeptics or those who like their dance music to be two dimensional, but it is a minor masterpiece of the so-called ‘space disco’ genre (which Thomas proves to be inevitably genreless) and the very definition of Balearic, all be it with a deft Scandinavian touch.