Re-press of the 1999 minimal klassik by Baby Ford and Thomas Melchior, one of the shiniest jewels in the Trelik catalogue and a high watermark of pre-millennial London tech-house. A lot of people are into this 12" for the title track (an amazing, spaced-out and shape-shifting production, I just never got on with that vocal lick, the aural equivalent of someone prodding you repeatedly asking if they can borrow your lighter when you're busy having a nice blissy chat with someone you fancy), and plenty others swear by the tunnelistic 'tek mix' (not included here) of 'Lady Science', but if you ask me it's really the serene, sentimental 'NY Sunrise' mix of the same that does the business ...certainly there's not a dry eye in MY house whenever it gets a rinse. A close relative of Herbert's 'See You On Monday', it's a masterclass in high-lonesome poise and effortless propulsion - the limpid organ loop and sighing, pacific synth-strings are so please-god-don't-let-me-come-down hypnotic you almost don't notice the deep, rolling, garagey bassline the size of a bus driving through the middle of the track. Like all the best house music it's euphoria spiked with BOTTOMLESS SADNESS, the sense that this perfect moment, like all moments, is HELLA TEMPORARY, and actually how the fuck are you going to get home and who are these people and where even are you. Pfffft. Banger.