Released to coincide with the Sensation party that was held in early July in Amsterdam, this double-disc collection delivers the sounds of the event right to your front door. Well, I’m guessing that it does, as I wasn’t at the event myself, so I’m not really qualified to make such a statement. Still, that’s generally the idea with these kinds of things. Based on the cover and subtitle, it looks like the party itself was some kind of mass orgy, with loads of scantily clad male and female models, and a general theme of sexual euphemisms, with disc one labeled “Lick me”, and disc two “Drink me”. To be honest, I’m not sure exactly how those labels translate sonically.

Having licked the first disc, I dropped it in my CD player to discover a moderately intriguing mix of relatively upfront tunes that sit towards the commercial end of the dance music spectrum. Fedde Le Grand, Swedish House Mafia and Dirty South all put in appearances, which should give you an idea of where this disc is coming from, and where it is going to. Several of these tracks have been around the block a few times already, so you’ll need to overcome that depressing familiarity that comes with listening to these kinds of releases. Sebastian Ingrosso flies solo on Kidsos, which twists MGMT’s Kids into a peak-time monster. I know, terrible concept, but it works. Pitto’s Feelin’ has to be the only real highlight, a gloriously sleazy piece of looped, filtered house that sounds very French in its execution. If you make it right through to the end, you’ll be rewarded with Warrior’s Dance from The Prodigy, which almost makes up for the average quality of the rest of the disc, although as great as the track is, it’s startlingly out of place on here.

As directed on the sleeve, I tried to drink the second disc, but given that it’s impossible to drink a solid object, I listened to it instead. The theme here is one geared towards that filthy word ‘minimal’, and you’d be right to run to the hills at this point. The sublimely restrained Tides from Beanfield starts the ball rolling in great fashion, but from there onwards it’s a very slow and tedious ride. Tracks from Thomas Schumacher and DJ Sneak manage to inject a small degree of respectability, and the shimmering, tropical tones of La Mezcla from Michel Cleis are a delight, but other than that, there really is nothing to write home about on this disc. The appearance of Gui Boratto’s delicately surging No Turning Back brings the mix to a close in achingly beautiful style, but by then it really is a case of too little, too late.

If you have actually attended the Sensation parties, then maybe these two mixes will have some significance, although I somehow doubt it. The problem with this release, and others like it, is that it presents nothing new and nothing that makes you sit up and take notice. Most of it sounds dialed in and way too familiar. The parties themselves may be winning plaudits and awards left, right and centre, but on the strength of this, the accompanying CDs will not be replicating that success any time soon.