Yoko Ono

It’s getting easier to accept Yoko Ono as a dance-punk godmother instead of a dilettante, or the witch who broke up pop’s greatest group.

Associated with the Fluxus movement, the Japanese-born artist’s idea of sound (primal, often minimal, playful—she gigged with avant-garde heavies La Monte Young and John Cage in the early ’60s) clashed with the output of her famous Beatle husband. But, especially lately, her solo work intersects with the artier side of dance music. And, much like the dance genre itself, Ono remains misunderstood—even vilified—in the mythology of rock. This year, Ono released the remix collaboration, Yes, I’m a Witch, composed of radical versions of songs from her oeuvre, retooled by top dogs in dance music—many of whom had probably never heard her solo records before getting the remix invite.

On this follow-up to Witch, Ono’s alien vocals are still as one might expect: never quite sung or ever in tune, almost comically fragile, but as distinctive as her name. The remixers sink their teeth into Ono’s catalog with results that range from stunning to purely utilitarian. Basement Jaxx’s tropical-flavored, high-calorie treatment of “Everyman Everywoman,” and Felix Da Housecat’s raw and rockin’ take on “Walking on Thin Ice” are both of hit quality, but retain the spirit of the original. On the downside, the Pet Shop Boys’ version of “Thin Ice” is devoid of any added value. Monstrous Miami club track Superchumbo’s “Kiss Kiss Kiss” might be the weirdest, emphasizing Ono’s howling. Skip the trancey fluff and listen to “Give Peace a Chance,” which DJ Dan has thoughtfully turned into a big-room anthem. The collection might not send anyone on a hunt for Ono Box, her complete works, but there are a few cuts that will keep Ono on the hip side of the VIP area for years to come.—John Dugan