Originally
published on isnotwas.com
I knew I was in trouble as soon
as I saw the cover, which features a couple phallic/squid/Easter
Island statue-like creatures crossing a city street in what could
be an allusion to the Beatles or maybe even that ol’ pic
of James Dean strolling down the street with a ciggy lolling between
his lips. Only he didn’t have what seems to be the skeleton
of a tuba wrapped around his waist like these two prowling bastards
do. The title, Jamie Lidell: Muddlin Gear, is written on the edge
of what looks like a saw blade. So I figured something odd was
afoot.
This is the debut disc for Super
Collider's Jamie Lidell. It’s something along the lines
of an Aphex Twin or Squarepusher album to be sure, but Lidell
has forged his own sound, too.
Lidell really challenges your attention
span here. He offers you a little hook, tantalizes you with a
beat, then snatches it away from you and vomits it right backatcha
in an altogether different form. You can’t trust him. You
can’t tell where the music’s going next!
“Da Doo Doo” is one of the “catchiest”
tracks. Now, I don’t like putting quotes around everything
in that hip, Dr. Evil, post-ironic fashion, but I do here because
the song’s not so much catchy, as . . . gripping. And, wait
a minute, I’ll be damned if the next track, “Daddy’s
Car,” doesn’t actually establish a groove. As much
as alotta banging and clanging does surround this track, there
are also some discernible (and naughty) lyrics. I could listen
to this one repeatedly. Lidell also sings in a bluesy fashion
on “The Cop It Suite,” though this time he doesn’t
engage the lyrics until half-way through the song.
The guy loves to create song titles which
send my word processor into fits: Track nine or, er, “??..?,”
sounds like acid is dripping steadily onto my eardrum. “Dröön_99”
is a 12 minute minimalist symphony cum industrial accident, which
reeks, I think, of Einsturzende Neubauten.
The CD ends on a bizarre note with “Daddy
No Lie.” Complete with subtle scratching in the background,
this track sounds like an old acapella doo-wop song.
To say the least, Muddlin Gear
is weird wild stuff. Inaccessible, maybe. Intriguing, even. Disturbing,
definitely. I’ll give this disc 8 out of 10 not because
I liked it tremendously, but because it interested me. This is
not dinner date music. This is not dance music. This is not your
father’s Oldsmobile. However, had this been the soundtrack
to The Cell, that might’ve been a more interesting movie.
8/10
Robert Stribley
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