Prince to Madonna, Blur to Beth Orton: William Orbit’s 12 greatest recordings

Torch Song – Mothdoom Ecstasy (1986)

William Orbit’s first band were a curious business. Torch Song had one foot in the pop mainstream – their biggest success came about when one of their tracks was featured on the soundtrack of the Tom Hanks-starring sex comedy Bachelor Party – and one in the left field: they recorded at London’s anarchist hub Centro Iberico, famed for staging gigs by Crass and Throbbing Gristle; they covered the Velvet Underground’s Venus in Furs. Mothdoom Ecstasy is very much of its time – stuttering samples, booming drums – but in its hazy synth textures and ethereal female vocals, you can definitely hear intimations of Orbit’s future approach.

Prince – The Future (Remix) (1989)

In the late 80s, Orbit did a series of mainstream pop remixes – for Belinda Carlisle, among others – and released the first in his series of solo Strange Cargo albums: its beatless synth-drifts and instrumental dance tracks sounded like the work of a man subconsciously waiting for acid house to happen. When it did, Orbit plunged in head first: a so-so track from Prince’s Batman soundtrack, The Future already had a distinct hint of house music about it, but Orbit’s remix – made in partnership with Mark Moore of S’Express – dragged it firmly into the centre of a sweaty rave.

Bassomatic – Fascinating Rhythm (1990)

Augmented by vocalist Sharon Musgrave and rapper MC Inna Onestep, Orbit’s new dance project had some odd ideas, a house version of Pink Floyd’s Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun among them, but their big hit – Top 10 in the autumn of 1990 – was a breakbeat-fuelled, dub-tinged dance-pop anthem. Again, it sounds very much of its era 36 years on, but that’s part of its charm: Fascinating Rhythm exudes the bright-hued, saucer-eyed optimism that dance music brought to the British charts in the years immediately after the Second Summer of Love.

React 2 Rhythm – Intoxication (Clubfield mix) (1991)

In a sense, it’s a little cheeky including the Clubfield mix of Intoxication in a list of Orbit’s best tracks. His involvement with the music seems a little tangential – he’s credited with “vocal samples” – and besides, this version is all about Leftfield’s remix. But no survey of Orbit’s career would be complete without mention of Guerilla Records, the progressive house label he co-founded in 1990, which released Intoxication, alongside classics by Spooky, DOP and the Drum Club. And besides, it’s a total classic: any excuse to revisit its absolute beast of a rhythm track.

William Orbit – Water from a Vine Leaf (1993)

Orbit’s first Strange Cargo album seemed like a curio: an outlier in the pop landscape of 1987. By 1993, the project made a lot more sense. In addition, the music had developed a fresh sense of focus, as evidenced by the opening track of Strange Cargo III. With vocals by Orbit’s then-girlfriend Beth Orton, Water from a Vine Leaf was the perfect demonstration both of his ability to create a warm, cosseting, slowly drifting soundscape and of his melodic skill: it became a minor UK hit before enjoying a lengthy afterlife as a mainstay of chill-out compilations. And the Underworld remix is the perfect example of the then-emerging trio’s unique approach to dance music.

One Dove – Breakdown (William Orbit Stereo Odyssey) (1993)

One Dove’s Morning Dove White was the post-club soundtrack of 1993 – a beautiful, Andrew Weatherall-produced blur of dub, dreamy electronics and girl-group influenced heartbreak – before becoming the great lost dance album of the early 90s: all-back-to-mine ubiquity ultimately didn’t translate into chart success. It was the kind of music for which Orbit had an innate affinity: his remix of Breakdown decorated the song with strings, harp and off-beam electronics, stretching it out for nine minutes, as if he – quite understandably – didn’t want it to end.

William Orbit – Barber’s Adagio for Strings (1995)

The most famous of Orbit’s solo albums, Pieces in a Modern Style, saw him reworking classical music at the suggestion of label boss Rob Dickins: a pretty ghastly idea on paper, but one that Orbit made work. A trance remix of Barber’s Adagio for Strings by Ferry Corsten propelled the track into the UK Top 5: ageing Gatecrasher kids would doubtless disagree, but the original, which gently warps Barber’s 1936 piece into nine minutes of soft-focus but sorrowful ambience – a distant relative of Brian Eno’s approach to Pachelbel’s Canon on Discreet Music – is better.

Beth Orton – She Cries Your Name (1996)

Orbit and Orton had a lengthy and fruitful musical partnership that outlasted their romantic relationship – they released a version of John Martyn’s Don’t Want to Know About Evil as Spill in 1992 and were still collaborating on Orbit’s final album, The Painter, 30 years later. Orbit recorded his own version of their co-authored song She Cries Your Name on his 1995 Strange Cargo album Hinterland, but it’s Orton’s take – the opening track on her fabulous Weatherall-produced breakthrough album Trailer Park – that’s the definitive version: careworn, misty, its sound strangely timeless.

Madonna – Drowned World/Substitute for Love (1998)

Madonna employed Orbit as a producer and co-songwriter on 1998’s Ray of Light after being impressed by remixes he’d done of Justify My Love and Erotica. Orbit later said the singer’s demanding approach nearly “killed” him – “I was done in physically” – but the resulting album sold 16m copies, catapulted him into the premier league of pop producers, and may well be the best album to bear Madonna’s name. The five-minute opening track perfectly demonstrates how simpatico the pair were: Madonna’s voice – sounding far more intimate than usual – fits perfectly as Orbit’s musical backing continually changes shape – icy ambient, a beat with a whisper of drum’n’bass about it, guitars and a surprisingly intense climax.

Blur – Tender (1999)

Like Madonna, Blur employed Orbit’s services after taking note of the remixes he’d done for their Bustin’ + Dronin’ mini-album. As with the making of Ray of Light, the sessions for 13 were an intense and occasionally punishing experience: as the band were falling apart, Albarn likened Orbit’s role to that of a “psychiatrist”. And like Ray of Light, the end result was fantastic. Tender in particular seems to alchemise the frayed, exhausted mood into something remarkable. A depiction of Albarn’s relationship with Justine Frischmann collapsing, it’s alternately shaky, despondent and powerfully robust. Whatever Orbit did in the producer/psychiatrist’s chair pulled an extraordinary song out of the band.

All Saints – Pure Shores (2000)

Danny Boyle would only include All Saints on the soundtrack of his film adaptation of Alex Garland’s The Beach if Orbit agreed to produce their track: the pressure to come up with something caused the producer to expend so much effort – he spent two months working on it – that he “totally lost sight of its potential” and became convinced the song was “a turd”. In reality, it was a triumph: a brilliant distillation of Orbit’s skill as a producer of what would then have been called “chillout” music into a perfect pop format, infinitely hipper and more sophisticated than your average British girl group track of the time. It still sounds fantastic.

U2 – Electrical Storm (William Orbit mix) (2002)

There’s a distinct note of what-if about the two tracks Orbit produced for inclusion on U2’s greatest hits album, The Best of 1990-2000. It’s hard not to listen to Electrical Storm in particular and wonder why they didn’t extend their partnership and make a whole album together: perhaps because of the track’s relative failure when released as a single in the US. That notwithstanding, it feels like a perfect melding of their respective styles: the guitar is immediately recognisable as the work of the Edge, the blanket of soft electronics over which Bono sings the intro is equally obviously pure Orbit.

William Orbit – Bank of Wildflowers (ft Georgia) (2022)

Orbit’s mainstream success in the late 90s and early 2000s had unfortunate consequences. He became a blue-chip songwriter/producer for hire in LA, working with No Doubt, Britney Spears and Chris Brown among others, an experience he didn’t much enjoy; reuniting with Madonna on 2012’s MDNA noticeably failed to recapture the magic of Ray of Light. Returning to England, he vanished from public view, suffering a drug-induced nervous breakdown that led to him being sectioned. When he re-emerged in 2021, it was as a solo artist: a Guardian profile depicted him “fizzing with enthusiasm” about his new music, excitement borne out by his final album The Painter. Far closer to Strange Cargo than his pop smashes, Bank of Wildflowers drenches guest singer Georgia’s faintly Kate Bush-esque vocal in effects and sets it against beautiful piano arpeggios, shivering electronics and an intermittent mid-tempo house pulse, to hugely impressive effect.

Reporting from The Guardian contributed to this story.