In a recent interview with Brightonsfinest, Goldie gave it the veritable large one: “I’ll wait for the enemies to come out, the ones that hate on you. They hate you because they are projecting themselves onto you, and they are not doing it. And they’ll go, ‘Fuck!' 'Fuck!!’ He's done it again! That fucker’s done it again! I know that's coming. It's beautiful.”

It has come. But some critics aren't listening. Or rather, they are and they've decided that what they are hearing is OK. Quite good, maybe but not great. It's perhaps not quite the reception that Clifford Price was expecting. After all, he has put his heart and soul into this project, this 'comeback' of sorts. He's out to prove a point to both himself, and to his critics. Perhaps he has set himself up with too much of that 90s braggadocio, when it was commonplace to hear people big themselves up (step forward Oasis), and diss their competitors and their critics.

But, this is 2017. We've (mostly) all moved on. The younger generation don't believe or partake in that bullshit anymore, and rightly so. And the power of the music media doesn't solely reside in a small number of mags and radio shows. The young also don't know much about the heyday of drum'n'bass in the 90s, when it was fresh and original, and ubiquitous. Goldie rode that wave both with his music (Timeless et al) and via his equally brilliant label, Metalheadz.

Timeless was, at the time, truly groundbreaking. Its use of innovative production techniques blended the complex, chopped and layered breakbeats and deep basslines of jungle and drum and bass with expansive, symphonic strings and atmospherics, and female vocals. The Journey Man is, by and large, the long awaited companion piece. And the first thing you notice is how friggin' long it is. A ridiculous 100 + minutes. You buy the Deluxe version and it's almost twice as long. It's the sort of indulgent length we associate with the dance-orientated 90s. Nowadays, it's rare for an artist to blow his wad over 50+ minutes. Unless it's all killer and no filler. Which, unsuprisingly, it isn't. But still, there's a lot to die for on The Journey Man, even if it can't quite help sounding like it was made around the era of Timeless.

Soulful and intelligent. Two key words that took Goldie above the mainstream jungle-by-numbers. And throughout the album there are moments when Goldie is both of those, and more, where his innate percussive/beats (he recorded all the drum parts beforehand) nous is the basis for much here. He hits the heights on much of the first half where he demonstrates his love and knowledge of all manner of dance styles from the 80s and 90s, and his ability to transform ideas into complete works, like a film director meticulously putting together a film. It's there on the lead track 'Horizons', which fuses drum'n'bass percussive patterns, with a little acid squelching, and acid-jazz lines and piano stabs. Add the voice of Teri Walker in that classic soul-house vibe, and you have a composite of all that was fine and dandy with dance music of those halycon days, including the cheesy if timeless refrain, "all we need is love." 'I Adore You' is one of the highlights, a super sub bass groove drives this, with the full-lunged soul-house of Natalie Williams, while 'The River Mirrored' is a gentler and headier trip down some Orb-esque ambience, d’n’b grooves and soulful vocals

'Prism', meanwhile, deviates into more underground ambient drum'n'bass soundscapes, followed by the moody atmospherics of the Massive Attack/Portishead-influenced 'Mountains', with Naomi Pryor on vocals, and the Prince-influenced brass-funk-d’n’b 'Castaway', both decent tunes, but lacking the incredible melodic depths of the aforementioned influences.

Goldie continues to cast his mind back on The Journey Man. 'I Think of You' is an affectionate and gently propulsive tribute to the legendary Metalheadz Sunday Sessions club nights at London's sadly-no-more Blue Note, while 'Tu Viens Avec Moi?' is his jazzy electronic intrepretation of Pat Metheny's jazz-fusion classic 'Are You Going With Me?', and 'Triangle' is pure blissed out d’n’b filtered through warped synth strings and frenetic percussion and deep bass.

The centre-piece of the album is the 18-plus minutes of 'Redemption', Goldie's attempt at alchemising all the base elements into the stuff of dancefloor dreams. Utilising in part a sample of the techno-jazz classic 'Hi-Tech Jazz', it's a slow burning journey into the heart and soul of d’n’b and techno, a celebration of the spirit these two styles of music imparted to the people of its day.

It's all mostly great stuff – although the album becomes decidely too long and meandering towards the long – painstakingly put together, and which often flows beautifully between soul, d'nb, house, acid jazz and the like. All those great genres of the late 80s and early 90s. The heyday of British dance music when everything seemed possible, with Goldie's adventurous and craftsmans-like informing much on offer. Trouble is, The Journey Man can't help sounding like it was made from that period, with some added 21st century production and electronic twists. As do almost all the vocals, and the lyrics which are, to put it mildly, cliched and uninspiring. Never let you go, find yourself, would you die for me, lots of ooo's, that sort of thing. If you can get over those hurdles, it's a winner. If you're old enough to have partaken in the euphoria of much of the dancefloors of the UK it will act as a lovely reminder of what was great and good about that period. If you were too young (or not even born) to remember, it too can be the right introduction to what it all meant. In sound and in philosophy.

Goldie being Goldie, this is about his journey, his reflections on being Clifford Price, and as such is very much a spiritual, if unashamedly narcissistic, piece.
Jeff Hemmings

Website: goldie.co.uk
Facebook: facebook.com/Goldie
Twitter: twitter.com/MRGOLDIE