It’s not all disco, but who can blame the compilers for such an attention-getting ploy? Skimpy on information, with track titles untranslated, Taiwan Disco focuses on a handful of female singers from the ‘70s and ’80s. That’s about all the context you get: You’ll just have to rely on that slick cover illustration (which resembles singer Tian Lu Lu) and the music, which is curiously more fuzzy than dancefloor-ready.

The opener from Wu Xiu Zhu—Google translates the title to “I Don’t Know I Love You”—features tribal drums and a fuzzy guitar riff, with the singer’s agitated vocals and a male vocal punched in shouting “Hey!” It’s borderline disco, perhaps in the way that covers of “Apache” are disco, but the pulsing beat is more anxious than soulful, like this is some dark Taiwan dance feature. Hua Yi Bao’s “Embroidered Purse” (if only the lyrics were translated!) has a hi-hat that comes closer to conventional disco, and the singer has a lilting delivery that doesn’t particularly suit itself to dance music, but that provides added tension—the horn chart too has a melancholy sound, and one imagines that the title object is some memento of love lost.

There’s little for a dancer to hang on to in Cui Yai Jing’s “Wind of Love,” a fuzz-tone guitar the primary nod to Western pop. But Zou Juan Juan’s “Dimple” (oh for a lyric sheet!) has both fuzz guitar and a danceable beat, plus syndrums that probably date this as an ‘80s production. The music is too nervous to convey something as endearing as a dimple, but that’s what Google translate says, so we can only speculate what’s going on here.

For the most part, Chinese song titles are provided, but the B side opens with a funky number by the prolific Tian Lu Lu that doesn’t even include that much. Too bad, since it’s one of the best, most up-tempo tracks here, a furious scratch guitar establishing the disco foundation but letting in almost psychedelic guitar solos and a completely frenetic performance. You can find other Tian Lu Lu tracks on YouTube, but none are this wild.

The B-side more consistently brings a faster bpm. Liu Guan Lin’s “Passionate” is another up-tempo funk-psych showcase, and whoever produced this lays on a little reverb to help the singer’s passion burst out. Another track from Wu Xiu Zhu, “I Can’t Find You,” has more of a disco pulse than her album opener. With melodies based on Eastern scales, other beats sound more like Bollywood, such as a Yu San Shan track that translates to the intriguing exclamation, “Hey! Glasses Girl.”

Not to be confused with the Australian post-punk label, Aberrant Records lives up to its name in a different way; its reissue program to date includes a compilation of recordings by Satanist Anton Szandor LaVey and an album of Beatles covers performed by dogs. Taiwan Disco is the label’s third release, and if it seems as though nothing in their catalog is like anything else in their catalog, that’s part of its curation of curios. Yet this album stands out, at least by contrast: you’ll want to play it more than once before filing it away.

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