The woes of neo-post-disco divas

I want to embrace the Kathy Diamond album, really. It's got all the right signifiers of pleasure: subterranean bass runs, bongos, ear-catching beats -- in short a steady groove, with an abrasive cutaneous layer that reminds me of those Material records from the early eighties, on which New York boho types like Bill Laswell and Jody Harris farmed out ostentatious post-disco to the likes of Nona Hendryx and Bernard Fowler. But from Evelyn King to Shannon to Taylor Dayne to Tom Breihan's beloved Crystal Waters, steady grooves have always benefitted from a compelling presence atop, below, or barreling through. "All Woman" comes closest to delineating a real woman, but it remains an approximation; these days holograms can be as sultry, lustrous, and present as the real thing. Since Diamond's barely there, producer Maurice Fulton proves himself less resourceful than one would like. The songs aren't raw exactly, but they do simmer longer at too low a temperature. Material weren't all that great either.