From: Jeff Davis <jjdavis@xnet.com>
To: idm-reviews@hyperreal.com
Subject: Review: FSOL - ISDN
The Future Sound of London: ISDN
5:40 Just a Fuckin Idiot
4:15 The Far Out Son of a Lung and the Ramblings of a Madman
2:33 Appendage
7:21 Slider
5:09 Smokin Japanese Babe
6:32 You're Creeping Me Out
3:45 Eyes Pop - Skin Explodes - Everybody Dead
3:22 It's My Mind That Works
6:13 Dirty Shadows
6:37 Tired
4:12 Egypt
6:24 Are They Fightin Us
3:21 Hot Knives
4:17 A Study of Six Guitars
5:26 An End of Sorts
This "collection" of live sessions from FSOL's live radio broadcasts
and electronic cafe sessions is an engaging and involving departure
from their last full length works. Less complexity, fewer layers,
sparser atmospherics but more spunk and funk make this a work that
is more easily approachable than _Lifeforms_. If _Lifeforms_ was a
hallucinogen guided tour of the multi-foiled hammock of the world's
rain forests, _ISDN_ is a latte-fueled night on the town in the
global electronic village. Through the wonders of high bandwidth
electronic transportation, in the period of just over an hour and a
quarter, Dougans and Cobain take us on a tour of some of the
planet's funkiest trip-hop and acid jazz emporiums, allowing us to
sample the sights sounds and smells of the underbelly of the
underground and best of all, to shake our booty a little bit at the
same time.
_Just a Fuckin Idiot_ opens in one of the electronic cafe sessions
with Dougans shouting over a clove-cigarette smoke curtained crowd
to the light tech to ease off on the intellibeams. A sparse and
funky beat hence ensues, firmly anchored by a crunchy bass meter.
Spooky and ominous, with a variety of ambient noise floating around
in the background, but not a great deal of development in the basic
theme of the track.
In _Far Out Son of a Lung_, a monster bass line and a muted
fluegelhorn loop set the stage for the ensuing journey. Sampled
electric guitar power chords and a recurring synth siren wail back
up a heavy drum kick, confusing and disorienting the funked up
listener.
_Far Out Son of a Lung_ disintegrates into _Appendage_, a short
atmospheric piece laced with found can clinkings and the remnants of
the half-life of the siren wail from the prior piece. No beats,
just an ambient breather.
This respite is well needed, because soon we are heralded with the
massive slow percussive and bass arrival of _Slider_. The beats
here are massive and drenched with funk, and another flanged and
echoed guitar loop is used to very original and nice effect.
Several times the song decomposes, and this loop is used to re-
engage the riddim. Middle Eastern vocal samples that we've all
heard a hundred times before are used, but somehow don't sound tired
over that swaggering trip hop beat. This one's a booty shaker with
a lot of sweaty sex potential.
_Smokin Japanese Babe_ opens with FSOL trying to find a good station
on the ISDN bandwidth interstate, just as they lock on to a funk and
vinyl scratch tinged upright string bass sample loop. Occasionally,
a wave or two breaks over us and we hear the mating calls of a jazz
horn player from a soul kitchen somewhere on the other side of the
planet. Dub echoes and the wacked out bass loop help us keep our
balance through the journey. Smoke 'em if you got 'em.
Disjointed synth and percussion create the sensation that entice us
to tell Dougan and Cobain, "_You're Creeping Me Out_". Bleepy and
startling; this generally forgettable piece is the uneventful ride
from one hot club to the next.
In _Eyes Pop - Skin Explodes - Everybody Dead_, we hear gun shots,
howling dogs and helicopters as the backdrop to a beautifully
electronic melody which is mournful and remorseful. The title is
the only real clue we get as to a description of the scene of the
crime. They seemed like nice enough blokes, kind of quiet though --
why'd they do it?
Tripped out vocodered samples and diatribe about cosmic
consciousness set the philosophical stage for _It's My Mind That
Works_. As the tribal drums close in on us from all angles, we
begin to somehow doubt the premise.
_Dirty Shadows_ begins with a National Geographic whirlwind sample
tour of the cultures of the world, from humpback whale to hindu
monk. A strong hi-hat line and a reverberating bass foundation lay
the groundwork for a solitary and emotive piano line. This one's
dark, dirty and feeling guilty, although we never really figure out
why. As each of these elements gets chopped and gated and then
reshuffled back into the deck, the mix gets gradually heavier until
it collapses into shards of plucked sitar ambiance.
Spine rumbling bass and loopy, dubby waves of trippiness get _Tired_
off to an unsettling start. You hear the stampedes of whinnying
horses which accompany your brain cells as they leave your faculties
one by one. Don't operate heavy machinery as you listen to this
one. Frogs and birds welcome you into the domain of the clinically
insane, and you feel good to finally be somewhere you belong.
Another ambient dance floor shaker in the bunch is _Egypt_. Funky
flute, filtered drums, and a punchy fat simple little 303 line prod
atmospheric strings and Nepalese warbling on to new levels of dance
floor ecstasy.
The sampled string bass and simple cymbal backbone that pin _Are
They Fightin Us_ down give it a trip hop sensibility and warmth that
keep the listener coming back for more. Various snatched acid,
house and rap fragments are repeatedly piled on with ambient surf
and vibe lines until the fundamentals of the track are no longer
discernible. But, upon being quickly mixed out, the funky work of
the bass man back under the single spot in the corner of the club
brings you back to basics of the groove and reassure us that all is
copascetic.
_Hot Knives_ begins as an Accelerator-era style stack humper.
Cheesy disco style synthesized vocal samples give the piece a groove
until in disintegrates unexpectedly into an ambient cross fade. Now
that everyone's out on the floor, what are we supposed to do?
A wickedly slapped fretless bass sample signals the entry to _A
Study of Six Guitars_. The other five strummers are looped and
intertwined, with the central player being a beautiful, softly
strummed embossed jewel of a chord which sounds as if it were lifted
from a This Mortal Coil track. A representative sample of the range
of textures which the six string instrument is capable of producing
are looped and souped in a study in contrast and constructive
interference. The resultant effect is delicious.
A mechanical 4/4 and stringy refrains signal that _An End of Sorts_
is near. A filtered snare and brushed cymbal line as well as a sub
harmonic bass pulse keep the groove fueled, as a digital cricket
chirps approvingly. This one appears to be building slowly, and
then suddenly descends back to earth to a corner table in a smoke
filled swing club with lounge lizards a groovin'. The FSOL trip hop
acidic tour is complete.
I quite like this collection, although time will tell if has the
depth and complexity to muster the staying power of Lifeforms and
Paths 1-7. The pieces are built largely upon samples, and many of
the snippets are fragments you subliminally remember as having
heard on earlier FSOL works. It's initially annoying to feel like
you're being fed reworked goods, but in almost each case, the
components are used in new ways or treated severely to create
totally new soundscapes. The groove laden vibe factor on many of
these tracks will make them instantly accessible to a fairly wide
audience, and several of them have the potential to be remixed into
dance floor mainstays. My only real complaint is that on several of
the pieces where FSOL really have the potential to allow a
smoldering groove to erupt into a full-blown bonfire, they teasingly
allow the vibe to deconstruct to chill-out fodder all too quickly
and unexpectedly. The packaging is nondescript and nonfunctional on
the outside (jet black embossed foldover with velcro closure flap),
but the foldout reveals a breathtaking hallucinogenic vista within.
The track listing is coded with a symbology which indicates which
broadcast each track came from, although I haven't quite figured out
the code yet. I recommend this disc, even to those weren't crazy
about Lifeforms or Paths 1-7. If you like creative ambient head
games and funk drenched phat dub tip beats, you'll find something
here you like.
Jeff Davis ____--~~~~~~vvvv~~~~ oo 812.831.7846
jjdavis@xnet.com____---- ( ( ( vvvv ~~~~~~ooooooooooo
___----( ( \ \ \ \ \ vvv oooooooooooooo
____---- ( \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ vvooooooooooooooooooooo