The John Scofield Band
Uberjam
Unknown
You’re not supposed to judge a book by its cover, but I admit to judging this album by its psychedelic cover, which features a vaguely Buddha-like naked man strategically holding a guitar to cover anything essential. Think of Miles Davis’ Bitches Brew and then throw in a bunch of noises that sound like they’re coming through a kid’s keyboard synthesizer. If you’re into the jazz-funk-fusion thing, you might like this, as long as you can tolerate the house-inflected beats, not to mention the rapper in “I Brake 4 Monster Booty,” which mix a bit strangely with jazz guitar solos and a funky bass line.
Rating: V
Al Mousseau
Richie Hawtin
DE9 closer to the edit
Plus 8
House music today is too complicated. The taxonomic complexity required to talk the talk to candy-kid-cum-hipsters is beyond the ken of most normal humans, who just hear it all as “thump-thump-thump-thump” with different things happening behind it. Sometimes it sounds like four on the floor at the Copacabana. Sometimes it sounds like four on the floor at Studio 54. And sometimes it sounds like four on the floor in outer space. Plastikman’s new disc is essentially the latter, but with really good interior design. Whatever the hell that makes it—trance, house, deep, funky, minimalist—I neither know nor care. Think of nice, spacious grooves on a NASA-funded expedition that’s decorated like a “wallpaper” photo shoot. This is the way modern music should be.
Rating: VVVVV
Al Mousseau
