Merge (US) / Domino (UK)
Senses develop with age. As a child, we tend to have a limited palette,with a strong preference for sweets and simple things. It's hard toenjoy something that can be bitter yet addictively desirable likealcohol, cigars, or raw fish. Likewise, it's also difficult toappreciate and fall in love with artwork that can be both incrediblysad yet stunningly beautiful all at the same time. With age, MattElliott has shed his Third Eye Foundation guise, stripped the layers ofdistortion, aggressive percussion, snotty song title humor, and theresult is beyond imagination. The Mess We Madeopens like an offpitch phonograph with twisted piano and hornsounds—muted, surrealistic, and ectoplasmic—accompanying his faint andghostly voice. (That in mind, it's hardly a surprise that the artworklooks more like a Brothers Quay production than ever before!) It's sad,mildy horrific, but captivating, almost as if Elliot is crawlingthrough the layers of freshly packed dirt from being mistakenly buriedalive. Over the course of the next seven complex miniaturemasterpieces, only rarely are electronic beats introduced, and whileit's not difficult to conecptually connect the dots to moments on thefinal Third Eye Foundation release, Little Lost Soul, it'stough to imagine this is the same person who cranked out some of themost clumsy, distorted noises on releases as far back as 1997's Ghost. Perhaps being a dad is what forced him to be quiet and work late at night, as The Messis very quiet, late night listening material. Tinkling melodiesfrequently play like cinematic themes by worn out music boxes,meandering in and out, mostly without rigid metronomic beats, allprovided by the deft multilayering of Elliot's voice, guitar, piano,bells, accordion (or melodica), and other instrument playing (with theexception of a couple female vocal bits here and there). Transitionsbetween drastically contrasting movements (from the beat-less score topost-drum 'n bass to a sea chanty) are amazingly seamless and fluid,and the eerie feel is never lost or compromised. With every listen Ifind myself surprised, frequently having to do double takes, kind oflike a book where you keep asking yourself "did I really just readthat?" Thanks to the power of media playback, rewinding andre-listening is possible, but like a David Lynch film, it's best toforce yourself to just sit there and soak in the whole damned thingstart to finish.
Senses develop with age. As a child, we tend to have a limited palette,with a strong preference for sweets and simple things. It's hard toenjoy something that can be bitter yet addictively desirable likealcohol, cigars, or raw fish. Likewise, it's also difficult toappreciate and fall in love with artwork that can be both incrediblysad yet stunningly beautiful all at the same time. With age, MattElliott has shed his Third Eye Foundation guise, stripped the layers ofdistortion, aggressive percussion, snotty song title humor, and theresult is beyond imagination. The Mess We Madeopens like an offpitch phonograph with twisted piano and hornsounds—muted, surrealistic, and ectoplasmic—accompanying his faint andghostly voice. (That in mind, it's hardly a surprise that the artworklooks more like a Brothers Quay production than ever before!) It's sad,mildy horrific, but captivating, almost as if Elliot is crawlingthrough the layers of freshly packed dirt from being mistakenly buriedalive. Over the course of the next seven complex miniaturemasterpieces, only rarely are electronic beats introduced, and whileit's not difficult to conecptually connect the dots to moments on thefinal Third Eye Foundation release, Little Lost Soul, it'stough to imagine this is the same person who cranked out some of themost clumsy, distorted noises on releases as far back as 1997's Ghost. Perhaps being a dad is what forced him to be quiet and work late at night, as The Messis very quiet, late night listening material. Tinkling melodiesfrequently play like cinematic themes by worn out music boxes,meandering in and out, mostly without rigid metronomic beats, allprovided by the deft multilayering of Elliot's voice, guitar, piano,bells, accordion (or melodica), and other instrument playing (with theexception of a couple female vocal bits here and there). Transitionsbetween drastically contrasting movements (from the beat-less score topost-drum 'n bass to a sea chanty) are amazingly seamless and fluid,and the eerie feel is never lost or compromised. With every listen Ifind myself surprised, frequently having to do double takes, kind oflike a book where you keep asking yourself "did I really just readthat?" Thanks to the power of media playback, rewinding andre-listening is possible, but like a David Lynch film, it's best toforce yourself to just sit there and soak in the whole damned thingstart to finish. 
Venetian Snares' latest release is a sequel of sorts to his best album, 2001's masterpiece of hardcore electronic sadism Doll Doll Doll.That album had a cohesive theme and a powerful diabolical precisionthat Aaron Funk has never matched, though he has released many finealbums since. Find Candace picks up where Doll Doll Dollleft off, and exacts a virtuoso sonic attack that matches the originalfor its sheer adrenaline rush of sound. Much like injecting crystalmeth directly into the jugular vein, this feels dirty and dangerous,and at high volume it has the ability to quicken the pulse and make thepalms sweat. The agitation begins with the first track, an incredibleremix of "Befriend a Child Killer." Stuttering, hyper-accelerated drumn' bass hits are coaxed out, a little at a time, until the songexplodes like a money shot in the face with a splattered wall ofscattershot rhythms and mind-wrenching acid lines. One of those genericdancehall singers that always heard in hardcore jungle songs pipes in,but his voice has been pitched down and distorted to sound monstrousand Satanic. This is extremely scary music that immediately puts toshame most of the self-consciously transgressive industrial music madefor in recent years. Aaron Funk's menacing, soulless music reminds meof the experience of hearing Too Dark Park and Last Rights-eraSkinny Puppy in my high school days as I was unprepared to hearsomething so dark and relentlessly aggressive and amoral. The music isdevoid of all emotion other than a raw, pulsating desire for Dionysianthrills and hyperspeed excitement, like a digital version of Slayer'smasterpiece Reign in Blood. The second track "Mercy Funk" isthe Snares' attempt to make a pounding rave anthem that is designed tokill any ravers that attempt to dance to it. Listening to theseven-minute "Find Candace" is like the experience taking a walk in thepark at night, witnessing a gang rape in progress, and joining in.Later, you feel remorse, so you go to a church. Suddenly, you have achange of heart and decide to burn the church down, run out into thestreet and howl at the moon. "Yor" begins as an ominous ambient trackconstructed from multitracked voices a la Gyorgi Ligeti, but it quicklyslaps you in the face with deep, percussive punches and samples ofmuffled graveyard screams. The brilliant "Children's Limbo" is thesuccessor to Doll Doll Doll's best track "Dollmaker". The trackbegins with a British child describing the four levels of hell againstan innocently funky breakbeat, but soon the scary synthesizer squealsoff into the drum n' bass inferno once again. "Dolleater" begins with aseries of high-pitched, strident tones and quickly becomes an orgy ofunfocused rage, penetrating the eardrums with an ecstasy of percussivepunishment. The album ends with the mercifully short "Blind Candace," abaroque pipe organ melody which segues into a kind of stop-start deathmetal dirge, complete with live drums and twisted screams. A trumpetcalls out desparately, and I am left wondering what the hell Aaron Funkhas managed to do to my mind. I must go out and find a small,innocent-looking child to defile now. - 
The Music Fellowship begins their Tryyptych Series—EPs with three 20+minute tracks ("tryyps") by three separate but similar artists—with New Found Land, in what promises to be a very compelling set for those who love ambient instrumental guitar rock. Landing are well known for creating emotion-stirring, spine-shiveringsounds, while Yellow6 and Rothko, projects by solitary men Jon Attwoodand Mark Beazley respectively, get respect not just for their etherealpassages, but also for accomplishing their singular visions alone.Together, the music of these bands makes for a calming, gentle ride,with the exception of a few punches of noise along the way. Althoughall three artists have over 20 minutes of music a piece, they dividetheir large compositions into sections. The expansive sound ofAttwood's Yellow6 seems very exploratory in nature, with most soundscomposed and altered in a digital studio. Each movement has an ambientbacking track, digital percussion, and sly flourishes over the top,from guitar to keyboard lines. Yellow6 is very structured this timearound, too, which makes the music all the more affecting, withemotions running high and the whole gamut. Rothko, by contrast, seemsmuch more interested in off-the-wall sounds and sources, from the musicbox and field recording on the first "Halftone and Metatone" to thedrone and plucked bass of several of the others. It interested me thatthe three artists took little or no effort in making their music blendor run together, either, which was especially surprising for Rothko,where all of Beazley's tracks bear the same name, with only a numberdistinction at the end. This is no slight, however, as each track doesstand very well on its own, it just would have made more sense for 20minutes of music to bear a common theme and intertwine. Landing, whosemusic here is fine an example of how far improvisation can carry whenall members are on the same page and in the same zone. Landing's songsseem more like songs than they have put forth in the past. Some fadein, the vocals begin, and when they've seem to run their course, thesong fades out again. It's the musical akin to a Christopher Guestmovie: miles and miles of tape captured, but in the end it's all editeddown to the finer moments. It's not what I expected from Landing, butquite a pleasant surprise, as each song increases in beauty as the CDplays on. This EP is a great start to the series, and hopefully therest will continue in the same vein.
Having been quite active on the European music scene over the last fewyears, receiving some notable praises that include a Grammy nominationin their homeland, Norwegian music collective Jaga Jazzist appear to begaining deserved recognition across the Atlantic for their uniquecombination of jazzy instrumental and electronic based music. Recentlyreleased in North America, the Animal Chin EP is comprised of three tracks from their debut release A Livingroom Hush, two remixes of tunes from said release and a sneak preview track from the soon-to-be-released full length disc The Stix.The rhythmically busy "Animal Chin" provides a whirlwind backing ofinterlacing guitar, keyboard and xylophone as a nice contrast for asmall woodwind section of saxophones and bass clarinet to play out amelody that moves gracefully with each progression. From the upcomingrelease, the more electronic-styled "Toxic Dart" snaps along to ablender mix of live and electronic percussion, bass and multiplekeyboard tweakings that gradually become less abstract with theaddition of woodwinds and some great surf guitar lines that jut out ofthe mix now and again. Drummer Martin Horntveth remixes "Lithuania"from its original relaxed standing of Rhodes piano, twangy guitar anddramatic woodwinds into a cut and paste version of its former self thatat times comes off as a frenetic videogame soundtrack. Yet anotherbonus not available on either of the full length releases, the 70ssoundtrack-inspired "Tristar" highlights some great arrangements forwah-wah guitar, harmonica and trombone. The Animal Chin EP is agreat introduction to the band's musical direction and remix workings,and at the same time gives some insight of what more to expect shortly. 
Dub Tractor is the solo artist alias for Danish musician/ electronic-based artist Anders Remmer (Future 3) under which he blends laid back, machine-generated grooves that carry a smidgen of glitch, various synth patches, the odd vocal track, bass guitar and other low-end frequencies for results which are very pleasing to the ear. For his latest full-length release, Remmer offers up nine individual tracks, all of which tend to convey an overall relaxing and subtly melodic panorama of sound to varying degrees.
At 19, Haley Bonar has already released two CDs on her own and gained asmall bit of credibility for her songwriting at such a tender age. The Size of Planets,her first release on Chairkickers', gives all the impression that Haleyis wise beyond her years, and her music speaks to this without soundingforced. The songs are simply arranged, with no flashy production orpretentious flourishes. Bonar is a talented multi-instrumentalist, aswell, playing guitar and piano, so most songs are just her. A littledrums, bass, cello, or slide guitar from guest musicians here and thereadd flavor and urgency where it's needed, but for the most part sheneeds no assistance. Recorded in the Sacred Heart Church, where Low andothers have recorded recently, the record also has a very full soundwith very distinct acoustics. The expansive sound serves her songswell, conveying the emptiness she sings of with an appropriate, thoughnot overwhelming, hand. She sings better of drinking on the album thanthe vets in the local VFW, better of cowboys than a hundred country orPaula Cole songs, better of car wrecks than J. Frank Wilson or PearlJam could ever muster. Tying it all together is her vocals, with aclear and untainted and unharmed beauty, though still conveying thedamage done. There's not a bad moment on the record, and though sherevisits some of the same subject matter it never gets old. Haley Bonarhas a great deal of faith, it seems, and because of that, I have agreat deal of faith she'll go far. It is the truest music that reachesthe masses, and with her songs Bonar is set to woo the world. 
Apparently, Jon DeRosa has a great sense of humor, as the New Good Timeshides the true nature of his debut full-length with a promise oflighter fare. Not that it's a bad thing that the album contains manysomber moments, as well, but Pale Horse and Rider do not intend to showyou a good time. DeRosa is better known to most as electronic artistAarktica, as PHaR first showed up on last year's Alcohol EPs.Already, though, he shows that his new name shows a lot of promise inits style and delivery. Pale Horse is mostly DeRosa alone, but hebrought along some heavy-hitters to join him in the proceedings, fromAlan Sparhawk's recording and guitar duties to Nathan Amundson onbacking vocals. Jessica Bailiff even handled the photography. Anyamount of guests wouldn't help matters if the songs were substandard,so it's fortunate that DeRosa is as talented in this realm as he is inthe electronic department. Good Times is a fine continuation ofthe PHaR sound, and the songs mostly cry out for some kind ofresolution to the strife regular people suffer through. Acoustic guitarand vocals make up the main palette, and it's really easy to screw thatup, but DeRosa never does. Anyone who can record something as hauntingand beautiful as "I Told Jesus Christ How Much I Love Her" deserves anyacclaim he's given, as it broke my heart the first time I heard it."Will We Be Blessed Someday" is a lighter number, and on "SundayMatinee" DeRosa tries on the piano to great success; so there isvariation of sound and subject matter, as well. The record is a bitshort, but only because I craved for more at its end. DeRosa's voice issimple and unaffected, making everything he sings sound honest andtrue, but there is a greater voice in these songs that he channels.It's difficult to take simple stories and elevate them in this way, butwith Pale Horse and Rider it sounds so easy. That it sounds thispolished is truly an accomplishment.
After two releases on the April label, Thomas Knak (who has recordedmusic as part of the Future 3 collective as well as under his own name)brings his unique style as Opiate to Morr for this EP, and the outputbears hope for future releases. The music is classic Opiate, withglitch beats, string samples, and simple repeated melodies. Knak hasalways had great fidelity on his releases, with the ear-piercing trebleattacks and the wall-shaking bass rumbles. This release is nodifferent, as the stuttered swirl/scratch/beep beat starts on "Perdot."Keyboard swells join in after a few seconds, and as the song buildsmore pieces are added to the aural puzzle, making for a very laidbackbut head-trippy start. "Show Story" begins and ends with a wash ofnoise, with a loud creak as the closer, but in the middle is a prettymix of strings and clicks. It ultimately seems to go nowhere, though,which is a bit of a letdown. "Amstel," though, is anything but as thecenterpiece of the release. Faded keys and distorted low end startthings off, but soon a maze of click beats fill the speakers, almostcompletely obscuring the melody before the piece fades out the same wayit came in five minutes later. Loud squelches make up most of "ForBrian Alfred," but it also features sampled drums and the same keysound. "STP!" has the best beat of the bunch, which stutters and bloopswhile very simple piano plays below. "OpiTTT" finishes the EP on asemi-fun note, as it's very playful with lighthearted beeps andfrequencies and a uptempo beat. For a very limited palette, Knak showssome versatility, though he seems a bit obsessed with similar keysounds on this release. I'd love to hear him completely rip out withsomething off the wall and confuse everyone while they can't helpdancing. Until then, more of the same will have to suffice. - 
It's been over two years since we last heard from Broadcast, butthey've finally graced us with a new 6-song EP, to be followed laterthis year by their second full-length album. Pendulum,which will have to tide fans over until then, is a formidable taster ofthings to come. The overall aesthetic is similar to that of theirprevious work: moody psychedelia sweetened by Trish Keenan's airy,hypnotic vocals. What's different is an evolution of the band's use ofpercussion and synthesizers. The title track shows a definite expansionon the sometimes trippy, sometimes icy melodic themes found on theirlast album. Even on minimal tracks like "Small Song IV" and "StillFeels Like Tears," the complex, yet adeptly handled drum rustles andangular patches of synths leap out amongst the atmospheric "aaahaaaah"s. "One Hour Empire" sounds as if it were culled from thejazz-tinged score of a 1970s crime film. Pendulum is an exciting step forward for Broadcast, and is a sure sign of a promising follow-up to The Noise Made By People.
Following up Flesh Eating Ants' 2002 debut—an extraordinary double LP re-issue of Edward Ka-Spel's Tanith and the Lion Tree—are a trio of Cevin Key-related projects. Each has received the same aesthetically pleasing transition to analog: the audio direct-metal mastered to colorful 220 gram audiophile vinyl and the artwork altered and expanded to gatefold sleeves. Knowing those specs and just simply inspecting them, it's clear that it doesn't get any better than this. Each is well worth their price.
The Monday night crowd at any bar is probably an interesting bunch. On their latest album, Arab Strap gives us their rendition of that crowd as thirteen songs comprised of their gloomy, downtrodden, and defeated thoughts. Amid drunken hazes and empty hookups, the pub patrons reveal the conflicts and regrets that led them to their early week retreat.
The age of easily downloadable software and cheap replication of CDs has its downsides: music is much easier to create and distribute (leaving the task of finding something good much more difficult). It keeps getting easier for any computer-abled person to assemble a bunch of sounds, toss them together and sound like pretty much whatever they want—either an excessive group or a solo noise "artist" with an arsenal of effects. Surely musician and composer (and re-composer) Kieran Hebden understands this, which is probably why for his third full-length release as Four Tet, he has exercised a refined sense of restraint. Here, he has taken a conscious step back from the maximalistic tendencies on his last album, Pause, patiently letting the songs play out more often than cutting a tune to a short sound-byte-style radio hit.
Noxagt are a drastic brutalist Norwegian trio who play hardcore metalstripped to the rawest basic uncompromising sludged out skullfuck.Forget all that emotoyboy shouting and cod-operatic yodeling that getsin the way of many an act, these dudes have binned that along with allthose silly posturing guitar solos. Actually they've binned the wholedamn guitar, with Kjetil D. Brandsdal's black-as-winter-molassesdowntuned bass taking centre stage in a thick distorted viola bolstereddroning stew of head banging inebriation. They call it Nor-Wave and youcan too if you need to pin a fairly meaningless hook in it. If you haveeven the barest basest interest in hardcore that pushes back theboundaries of instrumentation and density then Noxagt will make you onehappy brain-melted monkey. They've been perhaps curiously compared toShellac and while the two bands have very different modes of onslaught,there is perhaps a similar questing intelligence underlying their pushand shove. Viola player Nils Erga does also manage to coax some neatsqueals and screeching scrunch-noise from his four-strings that mightbring a smile to Steve Albini's face. Maybe a better comparison wouldbe Flying Luttenbachers slowed down and buried alive? Drummer Jan Kyvikkeeps the rhythms hard, pounding and unrelenting, like some disgruntledelephant with a bee on its tail, only a lot more precise. They up theadrenalin levels a little towards the end, with buried screams pulling"Swarm" buzzing and babbling to cathartic abandon. The final track "Webof Sin" is so relentlessly ominous it could bring on a whole shedloadof apocalyptic aping. Noxagt have just begun a tour of the UK and thedates are at the Load site, as is an MP3 of the second track "CupidShot Me," which paints a fairly representative picture of the albumoverall. If you come to the Manchester gig on Wednesday 7th say helloas I'll probably be on the door. 
When Robert Muso's first CD came out my felling was that it would havebeen kinder if Laswell had discouraged his sound engineer from crossingto the other side. But rather than being electronic ambience, TheMusique Concrete [sic]Ensemble—sound engineer Raphael Irisarri's project—is high-glosspost-rock ambience for Tortoise fans. At times it aims at plaintiverepeated guitar melodies and hits home in exactly the way somepost-rock does, that is, it seems to be saying that being able to writea decent melody (like, say, GBYE can) isn't important. Now, it's truethat you don't have to have much of a voice to be a great singer, butthat's a limitation of technique—it's quite another thing to usetechnique and production to try and bring life to a dead melody. It'sexactly the same problem with the rock-oriented drum machine tracks;the programmer seems not to understand what it is that makes good rockdrumming good. Stravinsky ditched his highly effective washes ofstrings fairly early, arguing that they are too easy and manipulative.Today, the same issue often applies to the not-quite-endemic washes ofreverberated guitar, synths and vocals; or the not-quite-obligatorybackground sound effects and samples folk use to fill out their music.Add to these the not-quite-ubiquitous hidden last track, the detailedlisting of archaic electronic instruments, the retro package design,and the Stockhausen, Ussachevsky and La Monte Young name drops (andmuch besides) from their web site and I think we have the clue to theproject's real intent. Normally, these elements would be entirelyirrelevant except for marketing purposes. Their overuse by both The MCEand Irisarri's label ECO, rather than being an indication of a bad caseof fashion victim syndrome, is, somewhat like the K-Foundation, apost-modern prank aimed at seeing how far they can push semiotics-basedmerchandising before their post-whatever audience catches on. Thatsaid, I admit to being entirely taken in by the cover art.
TheLiaisons Dangereuses LP is something of a sought-after, hard-to-findgem, but only among a select group of retro-beat enthusiasts andpostpunk dance collectors, and certainly not the music community atlarge. This is not a very important or influential album in the grandscheme of things, mostly because of its near-total obscurity. LiasonsDangereuses is made up of Chris Haas, who played synths for post-punkindustrial innovators DAF, and Beate Bartel, the bassist for thepre-Malaria female punk trio Mania D. They named themselves after RogerVadim's sexy film adaptation of the seminal erotic novel of 18thcentury France. Their goal was to make darkly erotic electronic dancemusic that would be redolent of 18th century Paris, with its shadowyabsinthe bars, decadent dance clubs, and general attitude of sexualliberation. For the most part, they succeeded, and in the process theylaid down an early template for most of the industrial and [a-hem] EBMdance music that would follow throughout the 80's. The album opens with"Mystere dans le Brouillard" (transl: Mystery in the Fog), whichcombines a Joy Division bassline with a clanging beat, and gothiccabaret-styled vocals by Haas. The song is filled with processedwindchimes and shrill noises that evoke the creepy atmosphere of Parisafter dark. Things get a little more high energy with the minorunderground dance hit "Los Ninos del Parque" (Children of the Park),where a menacing Georgio Moroder beat shares space with Haas' barkedlyrics and Bartel's incoherent shrieks. The telltale heartbeat of"Aperitif de la Mort" ('Cocktail of Death') comes on like an absinthehallucination, with its creepy alien synths and atonal metal scrapings.This track is immediately reminiscent of Death in June's earlysynthesizer-based works. The only other track that really stands out is"Peut etre...Pas," an irresistably funky track that avoids the gothposturing of the rest of the album and find its way into avant-discoterritory. This is true Mutant Disco - an unholy marriage of LarryLevan, Arthur Russell and Cabaret Voltaire. 
DJ/Producer Rjd2's 2002 debut album, Dead Ringer,showed his talents for hip-hop beats and instrumental soundscapes tomake catchy, danceable, yet intelligent music. Captializing on thesuccess of the album, Def Jux has released this 2-CD EP of remixes andnew tracks, with the second disc featuring multimedia content. Theremix CD is a tricky issue these days. It used to be the bastion ofalternate mixes and guest appearances, where these days it's usuallyjust filler to tide fans over until the next record. Because of thatfear, I can see why someone would be pressed to spend eighteen bucks onthis, and it seems Rjd2 himself agrees, calling it "not even an album"in the thanks section of the liner notes. True fans will find somethings interesting here, particularly the live DJ sets from the BetaLounge and the Bowery Ballroom, and the animated video for the titletrack. As for the music section, this is really what a remix EP shouldbe like, as the remixes are almost reinterpretations. The title trackmakes its appearance to start off, as is customary, and then the partyreally gets started. The "Ghostwriter Remix" is beat heavy andgroovier, with keyboards taking the lead. The real treat is in themiddle with a new guitar line and the same horns and vocal refrainmaking it a great club track or fine driving music. The "Final FrontierRemix" features some nice rhyme skills from multiple MCs with new beatsand samples from Rjd2, though the repeated "We're HERE!" gets old thesecond time it's heard, just like the original. The new tracks of "BusStop Bitties," and "Sell the World" are real treats, as they're justtwo great tracks with top-notch beats and great grooves that are moreDavid Holmes than Rjd2. The instrumentals are just filler, sure, butthey're great to drive down the street to impress, or to throw in yourown ingredients if you're a DJ yourself. All in all, this is not a badvalue with all things considered, and the packaging is really cool. - 
Though he's the producer of some of the most successful mainstreamalbums ever, Daniel Lanois' own music has been decidedly left ofcenter. On previous albums, he's made otherworldly sounds escape fromthe speakers, dancing and 
Save 
San Francisco skateboarding legend and multi-instrumentalist (how'sthat for a resume?) Tommy Guerrero's latest full length disc is a coolblend of latin-jazz and funk grooves with a DJ culture type of feelwhile showcasing his solid guitar playing and knack for composing andarranging. Building on laid-back breakbeat samples, tracks such as"Organism," "It Gets Heavy," and "Thin Brown Layer," fatten up withelectric bass, the odd keyboard and multi-tracked guitars to providesome great riffs and underplayed soloing which give off an impressionof a controlled jam session that doesn't stray much from the intendedgroove. The gentle bossa nova feel of "Thank You MK" lays thegroundwork for bright sounding bass and warm sounding, jazzy guitars toprovide some simple yet beautiful chord progressions that in theoverall setting come across as being very meaningful. Less isdefinitely more. The more traditional latin rhythms and instruments of"Lost Unfound" cement the tune's groove for syncopated bass lines andchoppy guitar to move through minor sounding changes that subtly buildtension throughout repetition. Although Guerrero has a couple of guestdrummers and vocalists (most notably Lyrics Born), he plays all theinstruments throughout the disc's seventeen tracks; very convincingly. 
