Vitalic - V Live (Original TC Review)

Play It Again Sam [PIAS]: 2007

(2017 Update:
Considering this was my first Vitalic review for TranceCritic (or ever for that matter), I'm surprised I didn't go heavier on the background info. Maybe I'd name-dropped him enough times prior to not need it? Eh, just as well that I didn't, this review already super bloated as it is. All the ranting, raving, and point-making I do regarding live album mixdowns could have easily been summed up in a few sentences, but for some daft reason, I go for a few paragraphs on the subject. Probably trying to cover my ass in defense of whatever counter-arguments could be made in favor of this CD, an obviously moot point now.

Interestingly, V Live was a limited-run release, of only five thousand "specimens". Considering many CD runs seldom crack the one thousand mark these days, I find that hilarious such a number is considered limited. Erm, I also don't have a physical copy of this, but I doubt I'd have to pay much to snag a copy if I really wanted one. Which I don't. Yeah, this hasn't held up at all, espcially now that Vitalic's added three more LPs to his resume since (called the date of the second one here!). I wouldn't mind hearing another stab at a live album from him though - fix the issues I had here, and we're good to go!)


IN BRIEF: Not OK, cowboy.

Vitalic has to be both the most exciting and the most frustrating new producer of this decade. In a time when fresh ideas are rare, Mr. Pascal Arbez-Nicolas has not only made an undeniable impact with his work, but double-lapped damned near everyone else in the process. His debut Poney EP will probably go down as among the most important singles of the 00s, and the follow-up album OK Cowboy kept his star firmly in place. Unfortunately for fans though, the Frenchman has an irritatingly sluggish output rate. True they say absence makes the heart grow fonder, and lord knows Vitalic’s followers salivate at every whiff of a new tune, but for someone who’s shown so much promise it’s almost criminal that Pascal has kept a cool head and resisted the temptation to release tracks en masse. At this rate, you’d think he was trying to mimic Leftfield’s career from the 90s (which means don’t expect a new album until about 2009).

Given his small discography, the idea of a live album seems odd. More so is the fact over half the tracks on here are either new or unreleased cuts, some of which have been specifically made for his live shows. While this sounds exciting on paper - fresh Vitalic material, live setting - I could not help but feel some slight apprehension going into this. The idea of a live album often revolves around hearing an artist’s material in a different context, which in itself is good stuff, but two problems all too often crop up in the process, and V Live falls victim to both.

Let’s address the most prominent one first: the mixdown. The whole point of recording something live is to capture the show as though you might be hearing it there in person. This includes the sound resonance of the club/hall/tent/stadium/field, appropriate crowd noise, and, the trickiest bit, the energy of the event itself. Any imbalance often creates a lackluster atmosphere - muddy music, for instance, or a lack of spectator presence reducing the whole ‘live’ aspect in the process; both seem to be a common fault of many a live rock release. It’s funny, then, that V Live suffers from the exact opposite problems.

Frankly, it sounds like Pascal recorded two sources: one somewhere in the middle of the crowd, and another directly in the main output. Then he apparently took the former master and gratuitously fiddled with the volume during the mixdown. The end result is music that is mostly computer clean, with crowd noise and hall reverb jumping in and out at extreme volumes throughout; at some points the cheers are the loudest thing you hear, other times it disappears into barely a whisper.

For the life of me I cannot imagine a hall as excitable as this one would get that quiet at key points of this concert, especially when in the early going pandemonium is likely with a mere pitch bend; their enthusiasm is borderline ridiculous. I’ll grant the killer cuts - La Rock 01 will forever kick like a kangaroo mule - but why on some of the lesser moments like, say, Follow The Car? It doesn’t seem to matter what Vitalic does, they’re just in awe of seeing the Frenchman live. This crowd would cheer if he banged on a keyboard for an hour. Probably.

No, their frequent absence in the final mixdown must be deliberate, and it makes for a live recording where you either find yourself lost among a sea of caners, or stuck in one of the monitor speakers. It’s disconcerting, and hardly an ideal representation of a live Vitalic show.

But who cares about all that so long as the tunes are mint, eh? After all, Pascal didn’t become the sensation he is by producing the odd gem with a bunch of mediocre wank to fill out his discography. So yes, La Rock 01, My Friend Dario, and newer cut Bells all deliver. However, they also deliver just as effectively on the albums or singles they were initially featured on and very little is done here to give them a fresh spin, which leads us to Problem #2.

Some of the most utterly bland live discs I’ve heard are often the result of hearing tunes that are near-identical to the versions heard on the original recordings. It’s fine and all to hear it while you’re actually there in concert - who doesn’t enjoy hearing their favorites played out, after all - but to have a similar rendition on yet another disc at home is redundant. If I’m going to pay money to have songs I already have, it’d better be significantly different or presented in a unique context. And there is little significantly different or unique in the way Vitalic performs his familiar songs on V Live. Honestly, I’ve heard several DJs make better use of his tunes than he does here.

What about all those new cuts though? Surely they’re worth picking this up for, right? Well, assuming you haven’t yet downloaded some set rips to hear them, mostly they’re effective club bangers containing a catchy Vitalic twist. Though none of them are quite at the level of some of Pascal’s highlights, Anatoles will probably be rubbing elbows with Poney Pt. 2 and No Fun on a ‘best of’ CD down the road. And besides, chances are you’ll be hearing the best cuts on future albums or B-sides to singles anyway. Unless you can’t possibly hold out for non-live versions of them, you’d be better off waiting and seeing rather than picking V Live up solely for these tunes.

This isn’t an entirely bad release but casual fans of Vitalic will undoubtedly come away underwhelmed. There are few surprises in Pascal’s set and the crowd unfortunately is more annoying than entertaining. Although it’ll probably still be some time before we see another full-length album from the Frenchman, V Live doesn’t have enough going for it to make this a worthwhile tide-over. When all is said and done, only completists will find long-term satisfaction with this.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2007. © All rights reserved

Laurent Garnier - Tales Of A Kleptomaniac (Original TC Review)

[PIAS] Recordings: 2009

(2016 Update:
You just had to make another dig at minimal, didn't you, 2009 Sykonee? Boy, does that quip ever date this review now - like, who gives a rat's poop about Luciano anymore? Meanwhile, Garnier's still here, doing his thing as he's always done, even releasing another album this past year. This reads a bit gushy to my current eyes, but its no less reverent than any number of fans and journo-folks who've put hundreds to thousands of words detailing the Frenchman's career and class.

Unfortunately for this album though, it hasn't gotten any easier of a listen as time's worn on. For all the care and skill Mr. Garnier put into these tracks, they create such an erratic listen with a traditional playthrough that it's difficult for anything to stick to the ol' memory membranes. Funny enough, Laurent mentioned shortly after releasing Tales Of A Kleptomaniac that he couldn't even stand listening to these tracks anymore, having spent so much time on them and all. Man, I know what that's like with some of my own writing, but I can definitely hear how some of this music's been micro-managed almost to a fault. Gotta' keep that muse fresh with new ideas, yo'.)


IN BRIEF: Does Garnier have anything left to prove?

No, don’t actually answer that rhetorical question; just ponder it for a moment. Then, once you’ve finished pondering, keep those thoughts to yourself. If you do that, then you might be able to dive into his new album, Tales Of A Kleptomaniac, without any of the ungodly expectations the Frenchman has become saddled with. Just accept the fact he likes to make music, and feel fortunate enough he’s successful enough to share that over-indulgent muse of his with you.

The simple fact of the matter is Garnier has established himself as the music-fan’s producer and DJ, thus has earned all the plaudits that comes with such respect; however, this also leaves his body of work incredibly daunting for the uninitiated, with very few clear-cut crossover singles to his name (The Man With The Red Face being the most obvious exception, especially recently). With a discography that is far from newbie-friendly, Garnier has been kept somewhat on the outskirts of top acts, even though he is a recognizable name. This new album isn’t likely to change that, which will probably suit his fanbse just fine. But, y’know, it’d be nice of him to, like, get the same kind of praise the Luciano Villalawtins of the world do, just once in a while, hm? Ah well.

So now that we’ve effectively frightened away the uninitiated, is there anything of interest for the Garnier connoisseur? You bet! In fact, there’s almost too much here. In being such a hoarder of musical styles, ol’ Laurent has assembled an incredibly eclectic collection of songs, such that I can’t see folks getting their vibe on to every track.

For instance, you may be totally down for more of his jazz-fusion techno-stomp, supplied here in the form of Gnanmankuodjii; but are you willing to go even deeper down the jazz tunnel, into an acid lounge with Garnier himself providing spoken dialogue in Dealing With The Man? Or perhaps you’re looking forward to some vintage dark trance vibes with Desirless that ol’ Laurent was known for way back in the day. That may sound good, but perhaps not the two hip-hop cuts - one with French lyrics, no less - if that isn’t your thing. Or maybe the thought of him doing dub reggae with Food For Thought makes you all giddy (*cough*); might you have the opposite reaction to Bourre Pif, a dabbling into drum’n’bass? Wait, what? That last one doesn’t make any sense. How could someone like one rhythm-heavy form of music but not another? Never mind that last one.

Getting back to the album, the point is there be a lot of musical variety on here, some of which may not be your cup of brie. However, it is all finely produced and enjoyable to those with at least a broad sense of taste -allow me to provide an example. Although I know it can be musical journalistic suicide to openly admit to not knowing much about a particular genre, I think you can all forgive me saying that I am quite clueless when it comes to French hip-hop - I've heard no more than half-a-dozen tunes in my life. Yet, despite not getting much out of Freeverse (Part 1) on an intellectual level, I still enjoy it on a ‘dumb’ level; that is, purely on what the music on hand offers. You get that sense of musical competence from Garnier on every cut here, and though you may not be compelled to suddenly start checking hundreds of French hip-hop acts out there, Garnier at least provides you with something that won’t have you quickly reaching for the skip button.

That said, there isn’t much on here that would convince one to check out these musical genres further either. Food For Thought is a great dub tune …for being on a Laurent Garnier album; fans of jazz-fusion, techno, and, yes, even French hip-hop would probably say similar things.

Tales Of A Kleptomaniac is another solid outing from Garnier, and the music’s far too good to give it anything lower than an 8. However, in allowing his muse to rob the kitchen of everything but the plumbing, it unfortunately lacks an elevating, crossover classic. The veteran Frenchman remains as daunting for the newbie as ever.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2009. © All rights reserved.

Tiga - Sexor

[PIAS] Recordings: 2006

Confessional 10, sub-admittance 32: I had serious doubts over this album. Me, the guy who’d been flying the Tiga flag since I first took the Turbo plunge, who preached the Sontag gospel when every opportunity presented itself. For you see, I was won over by his charms and talents as a tastemaker, plus his impeccable cover artistry. Nearly everything he’d put out in his singing career was his take on other people’s songs, and he was darn good at it too. Still, would folks really be enthralled by a full LP of covers? Not terribly likely, but nor had Tiga at any point prior established himself as someone capable of writing original tunes either. With these factors bearing on my mind, I skipped out on Sexor, letting Tiga’s chips fall where they may as he set out on conquering Canadian content airwaves. Of course things turned out perfectly hunky-dory for the man from Montreal, so why did it take me nearly a got’dang decade to finally get this album into my collection? I… really have no answers for that. File this one with Dig Your Own Hole and “Anything Orbital” under the ‘Sykonee’s Unforgivable Omissions’ header.

Okay, one reason I wasn’t so quick to jump into the big bed of Sexor was due to how omnipresent it was within my social circle. I didn’t need to get it for myself when everyone else was jamming to Pleasure From The Bass. It seemed like the (Far From) Home video was on constant rotation at every house gathering I went to (that walk!). And damn straight folks couldn’t get enough of Burning Down The House, since everything Talking Heads was super cool again. Getting his David Byrne on aside, Tiga choice of covers sure came from unexpected places. There’s an acid house rub of Public Enemy’s Louder Than A Bomb, and a slinky electro-ballad of Nine Inch Nails’ way-early single Down In It. Not the first time Tiga’d done covers of hip-hop or industrial, but considering he made his name in the synth-pop market, it’s a bold move nonetheless. So’s all the acid house and techno on this album, come to think of it.

For sure he gets some synth-pop in with another Jori Hulkkonen team-up winner (High School), but much of the co-production on Sexor is divided between Jesper Dahlbäck (aka: the Good Dahlbäck) and Soulwax, whom were at the height of their star power. The first half is mostly dominated by Jesper’s groovin’ acid funk and downtempo cuts (plus an industrial freak-out in Who’s That?), while Soulwax bring the noisy electro anthems to the their works. All through it all, Tiga carries the tunes with all the swagger and suave finesse of a singer who’s fully confident in his stride. The lyrics are generally simplistic, but they carry such sincerity and charisma you can’t help but bobble your head along (or… that walk!). Throw in a few introspective moments, and you’ve a pop record that holds strong ten years on.

Kiko - Slave Of My Mind (Original TC Review)

Play It Again Sam [PIAS]: 2008

(2015 Update:
I keep thinking Slave Of My Mind will wear off on me, the attributes I found charming back in 2008 finally sounding campy or derivative. I keep thinking the only reason I gave it such praise was for its lack of things I disliked back then - the electro-fart nonsense, the minimal plonk-wank, the stoopid-club fodder. It never happens though, the thin line between tasteful and wack continuously toed with finesse. This is a fun album for a mild bit of brooding dance music, and is a shame Kiko never followed up on it.

Not that he hasn't been busy though, still cranking out singles by the cart load. Taking in a few of his more recent ones, it seems Kiko's gone the way of house music again. Tech-house, deep house, a little techno on the side - all the usual sounds you'll find in typical underground clubs I guess. Aww, why you no darkwave no more, Keekee? It's bound for another resurgence in the near future if nu-new retrowave movements have any momentum going for them.)


IN BRIEF: A misstep, or misunderstood?

Christophe Dallaca, or Kiko as he’s more commonly known in the clubbing community, had a promising leap into recognition during the first half of this decade. A part of the French techno connection that was injecting elements of italo and New Beat into their music, he was amongst the early adopters of electroclash, and even survived the backlash with subsequent acid hits such as Jack In The Box. Yet, while compatriots such as The Hacker and Vitalic have maintained a respectable profile as the years went on, Kiko seems to have faded off.

Do I have an answer for such occurring? It could lie within his second album, Slave Of My Mind. It would seem, as with so many others this past year, the Frenchman’s been influenced by the German aesthetic. Not to say Kiko didn’t have an inclining for moody minimalism in the past but not to the degree we have on this album. Gone is the italo, and even his native country’s influence is mostly absent; as such, so is much of what made Kiko… well, Kiko.

And unfortunately for Monsieur Dallaca, he isn’t adding anything to the German sound that hasn’t been touched upon for the last couple years. When everyone from Dutch trance producers to UK prog jocks to nearly every house producer under the sun are taking a stab at it, Kiko would have had to do something utterly revolutionary to stand out from the glut. Sadly, Slave Of My Mind doesn’t have anything close to that, and as a result we are left with a collection of tracks that are nicely produced but difficult to distinguish from the pack. Thus, Kiko fades from public consciousness.

That said, Slave Of My Mind does venture into territory few seem willing to frequent: darkwave… of a sort. The titular track and World End Rock Up reach into the gloom that made up much of the industrial-goth sound that’s been quite popular in German circles, all the while using melodramatic-yet-slight synth strings to sell the vocal angst. Wrap it up in techno beats, and you have a pair of tracks that’ll probably come across a bit too ‘hands-up’ for serious crowds, yet too dismal for general audiences. This easily makes Slave Of My Mind and World End Rock Up the best tracks on Kiko’s album, as they aren’t blatantly pandering to any group in particular, and are infectious dance numbers to boot.

Aside from additional vocal number So Time, which is a relatively average stab at injecting angst into a typical electro-house tune, the rest of the tracks don’t venture far off the murk-techno path. And although this is nothing any connoisseur of techno wouldn’t have heard before, Kiko still manages to craft hooks that are quite infectious despite being comparatively subtle; it’s difficult writing off stuff like PH-1 and Sunburn when they so easily get lodged in your head. He even takes a competent stab at that ambiguously named sub-genre neo-trance, throwing spritely glitch-melodies in Preludia and Alone In The Dark; it’s what Sander van Doorn’s album could have sounded like if the Dutchman had made a point in his tracks rather than dickering around with go-nowhere ultra-effects builds.

What Slave Of My Mind could have done without, however, are the three ambient doodles thrown about the album. They aren’t altogether awful, mind, just rather pointless; I’d have preferred seeing one of the b-sides to the singles show up instead (Maximale would have made for a killer contribution!).

I’m sure there are a number of folks out there that would disagree with my assessment of Kiko’s latest; after all, he’s no longer the Kiko most enjoyed years back, nor will he win much favor with the ‘I are serious techno serious fan’ groups. Damn it though, this is my review and despite the rough edges, Slave Of My Mind is quite enjoyable. You won’t be blown away by it, but it’s still entertaining from start to finish, which is more than can be said for most albums on store shelves. Put this one in the front-running for the Unduly Neglected Albums Of 2008 category.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2008. © All rights reserved.

The Hacker - Reves Mecaniques

[PIAS] Recordings: 2004

Michel Amato already had a tidy techno career going for him before pairing up with Caroline Herve. He even released a debut LP way back in 1999 under his Hacker guise, Mélodies En Sous-Sol, though the buzz surrounding his early singles with Miss Kittin overshadowed it. Heck, bring up anything Hacker related, and it’s nigh impossible wondering what his partnerette in sexy detached synth-pop crimes is doing. Off being her own superstar and hanging out with her own famous friends probably, but she and Monsieur Amato have continued pairing up every so often. Oh man, I still gotta’ hear Second Album proper-like too.

As The Hacker was one of electroclash’s foremost tastemakers, another solo outing from him hitting the shelves was guaranteed. Unfortunately for him though, by the time Reves Mecaniques came out, that scene had already collapsed, journalists and electro-indie types looking for the next big nothing they could latch onto. Just as well, then, that ol’ Michel stuck to the sound that earned him critical praise in the first place: uncompromising electro and brutal, minimalist techno.

Yeah, if anyone was expecting a euro synth-poppy retread of First Album, they were in for a shock. The Hacker’s style’s long been finding ways of taking chintzy ‘80s sounds and giving them an aggressive, gritty edge. It’s as though the gear he uses was found in a Berlin back alley, abandoned and near ruin from rain and neglect. Not for Amato though, as he takes that shit home and fixes it from disrepair into something capable of music making. Why, you might even say he… “hacked” his way into it! Eh? Eh? Man, was that ever a ‘hacky’ pun.

Of course, the first question everyone asked upon clicking this review is “Does Miss Kittin show up?” Yep, on track number three, Masterplan, and it sounds as vintage Kitt’n’Hack as you’d expect, like a pair of actors slipping into familiar roles. Not to be outdone though, Amato brings in Perspects (Ian Clarke) and Mount Sims (another Matthew) for a pair of tunes in Flesh & Bone and Traces. I dunno’ so much about Clarke’s offering, in that he sounds too electroclashy, (no, I can’t explain that – you just know it when you hear it), but Sims’ croon works wonderfully with Hacker’s bleak electro.

The rest of Reves Mecaniques finds Amato going about his usual techno business. Sometimes he leans more electro (It’s The Mind, Sequenced Life, where he totally apes Kraftwerk, because yes he would shut up), and other times he goes more downtempo (Electronic Snowflakes, Sleeping Machines). He’s at his best, though, unleashing aggressive, feral synths (Village Of The Damned, Radiation), and especially so with an acid techno workout on The Brutalist. Nothing fancy about these cuts, folks, aiming straight for your rave jugular.

All said, this album is something of a precursor to the ‘maximal’ strain of techno many French producers adopted in the late ‘00s. If you’ve a hankering for that sound, then The Hacker’s sophomore effort’s for you.

Vitalic - OK Cowboy

[PIAS] Recordings: 2005

Electronic music was desperate for the Next Big Thing to manifest itself during the mid-‘00s and, thanks to the immense buzz behind his debut Poney EP, Vitalic was counted upon to deliver said all-time classic album that would define the decade. Instead, four years after, he released OK Cowboy, a solid LP with lots of fun music, perhaps one of the strongest albums to emerge from the dire year of 2005. However, because it leaned so heavily on Poney EP, it wasn't the classic folks expected, and considered a letdown. Oh well, back to propping up Mylo as EDM’s generational talent.

Now, how to follow that paragraph? Almost everything else I say about OK Cowboy from here on out will come off as hyperbolic gushing. Yes, I know this isn’t a perfect album, but as far as I’m concerned, it does everything it needs to smashingly well. You’ve got the old hits that made Mr. Arbez-Nicolas the talk of the underground, you got some new stuff that’s equally on par, you got ‘filler’ tracks putting several other electro-sleaze techno producers before and since to shame, and you have chill, artistic indulgences that not only prove ol’ Pascal’s far from a one-trick Poney EP, but help break up any album monotony in the process. What else can he do to make OK Cowboy more awesome? Well, maybe including You Prefer Cocaine somewhere, but three out of four Poney EP tracks probably was stretching things a little.

It’s nigh impossible to discuss this album without talking about what made ol’ Pascal’s first single such a revelation at the time. While DJ Hell’s International Deejay Gigolo print was already finding sexy new ways of combining EBM intensity with techno functionality, Vitalic added unabashed laser-kissed anthemage to the mix. The way Poney, Pt. 1’s synths and La Rock 01’s acid unceasingly build and build over pummelling rhythms were visceral reminders of techno’s raw potential energy (an attribute somehow forgotten by techno’s old guard of the time). Throw in bizarre, discordant vocals as though imagined in a David Lynch fever dream, and even the relatively subdued Poney, Pt. 2 stands out as a highlight among classics.

The other tracks, then. Could they hope to match those tunes? My Friend Dario says, “Oh Hell yeah!” with guitar riffage as infectious as any of hair metal’s best. Plus, one watch of the video, and you’ll forever be air guitaring along should you hear it play out. No Fun’s more of a typical electro-house take on the same idea, while Newman goes straight for the headbang thrash of the sound (it’s like Daft Punk’s Rock ‘N Roll, but great!). The hidden gem among all these is Repair Machines, a surprise electro-body workout that never got its due.

About the only thing that kept OK Cowboy from earning proper classic album status was a killer single near the end, but the final run of tunes are worth sticking out for. Marching drums to take us out, Vitalic? You so crazy!

Vitalic - Flashmob (2013 Update)

PIAS America: 2009

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review.)

I take it back. After hearing the lead single for Vitalic's new album, Rave Age, the doubts crept in. It had all the hallmarks of pandering to dumb-fuck festival EDM goers, though with just enough catchy Vitalicness to barely give it a pass. Still, I sure as hell didn't want to hear what the full album might sound like if he was going in that direction. No, maybe it would have been better to do things proper-Leftfield-like and called it quits after two albums, go out with a legacy held intact and all that rot.

Does that mean Rave Age truly is utterly dire? Hell if I know, I haven't even heard samples from it yet. I'm afraid to. Afraid the Vitalic that blew my mind way back with the Poney EP is long gone. Afraid of the musical compromises required to appeal to the lowest common denominator to get noticed by the new breed of party revelers. Afraid that my cynicism has been all for naught, that I might actually like the damned thing and I’ll be forced to eat crow once more (shit’s nasty, especially with a side of foot in your mouth). Yes, I’d rather remain in blissful ignorance and enjoy the music I have of Mr. Vitallica (besides, I can wager a guess of how it’ll sound, given the general apathy towards Rave Age since its release).

To be fair, ol’ Pascal’s music’s never been the most subtle. It was a rediscovery of rave music’s blunt aggressiveness that helped him stand tall above all the electroclash sleaze-mongers. And even when maximalists like Justice and Boys Noize caught up to him, he still etched out a mark for himself with Flashmob, suggesting a developing maturity in his sound that could have kept him a class act while his peers dumbed down the formula for ever-more insta-gratification generic results.

It’s a funny story, the whole maximalist movement: Ed Banger Records, Digitalizm, Mylo, and the lot. It got plenty of press and fanfare, but couldn’t quite sustain itself in the upper echelons of commercial dance. It was just too aggressive for the mainstream, lacking those identifiable hooks that worm into ears and persist with insidious offspring wrapped around your cochlea; nay, just ballz-to-the-wallz noise and anthems. Well, gee, sound like something else that caught on in the last few years? Yet at a time when folks should namedrop these obvious influences, most of the acts that brought it to the fore are barely mentioned anymore, considered something of a trendy, hipster, blog-house thing of half-a-decade prior. Except for Boys Noize. He kept his name out there.

If you’re wondering whether Flashmob has held up, I say most definitely, but only because those making this sort of music - Vitalic included, apparently - have taken a step back from its potential. I never thought I’d say this about maximalist techno, but ol’ Pascal’s sophomore effort is bloody mature and clever compared to what passes for such music these days.