Originally
published on isnotwas.com
Rupert Parkes, the bloke you know
as Photek, is known for his masterly exercises in drum ‘n’
bass, but he’s going to surprise a few fans with his new
album. There ain’t much drum ‘n’ bass on it.
Instead, Parkes dabbles in a few different genres. Now, exploring
these different genres on one album isn’t necessarily a
bad idea, but methinks he’s bitten off more than he can
chew.
First off, you’ll catch the nuances
on this disc better with a decent set of headphones, instead of
blaring it in the Honda. The jet taking off at the beginning of
the first track, “Terminus,” for example, sounded
like an unnecessary blast of sonic interference in my car, but
it positively soared through my headphones. It’s a tight,
propulsive track, as is “Junk,” which follows it.
The third cut’s title “Glamourama”
is a nod to the recent Bret Easton Ellis novel. With its echoing
Italian film dialogue samples and whirling Dr. Who’s Tardis-like
sounds, it’s the track on this disc that falls easiest on
the ears.
I’ve seen a few raves about the house
tunes on Solaris, but they both leave me cold. “Mine to
Give” is a pretty stultifying song. Seventies icon Robert
Owens (Fingers Inc.) sings the lyrics, the chorus of which goes,
“If that don’t make you happy, I don’t know.”
Owens’ voice is quite expressive elsewhere on the track,
but the beat is accentuated on each syllable of this mantra, so
it often sounds like he’s slogging his way through it.
The other house track “Can’t
Come Down” fares little better. Photek always struck me
as an innovator until I heard these tracks, and I think he’s
endangered himself by wandering into alien territory. Both tracks
are bland, as are their lyrics. In fact, the more lyrics I heard
on the Solaris, the more I thought maybe Parkes should stick to
instrumental music.
The title track is an uneventful little
number, which should center the album, but instead acts as an
intermission, where you might step out to relieve yourself or
grab to a Coke from the fridge. It’s followed by a second
intermission, “Aura,” which serves as a sort of ambient
interlude, as if we needed one after “Solaris.”
“Halogen” comes next—it
seems we’re on lighting theme. Thankfully, this song’s
got a meaty beat. Some might even accuse it of having a trip-hop
edge to it, since it’s kinda gloomy with intermittent shimmering
and clanging sounds. Another jet roars through “Lost Blue
Heaven,” an obvious homage to Massive Attack on which Simone
Simone provides vocals. Parkes has managed to capture Massive’s
style, but not the soul of their music.
Do you get the impression that the genres
are kinda clumped here? Something for each of us: house, ambient,
trip hop, and . . . what about drum ‘n’ bass, which
until now had been Photek’s trademark? Only one track “Infinity”
is a stand-out drum ‘n’ bass track, so fans looking
for more may be disappointed.
Parkes is obviously a plenty talented
musician: I probably wouldn’t have given Solaris such a
cold reception were it not for the rather pedestrian house songs
at its start. That and the fact that Parkes couldn’t seem
to decide on a musical genre makes this an uneven listening experience.
7/10
Robert Stribley
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