|
|
 |
Dusted Reviews
Artist: Lindstrøm & Prins Thomas Album: Reinterpretations Label: Eskimo Review date: Aug. 16, 2007 |
|
|
|
|
Whenever discussing how Michael Jackson should revive his career, the idea of a Jackson/ Lindstrøm & Prins Thomas collaboration usually surfaces in my mind. Needless to say, Jackson has been using stale beats for awhile now, and some work with those seriously attuned to the disco-synth depths of his early albums could recharge his batteries. There is a direct line from the stuttering polyrhythms of “Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin” to the convolutions of L&PT’s most mind-numbing jams, and the prospect of Jackson reaching the heights again on the backs of the Norwegians sounds tremendously exciting.
This collaboration could be mutually beneficial. Though their best work can make everyone from the DFA to the Editions Disco crew seem like they’re just not trying, a Lindstrøm & Prins Thomas foray can feel pretty stale itself. The ‘soft rock’ term is sometimes applied (usually as a compliment, for some reason), but that’s not quite right - their atmospherics too often channel the worst of Tangerine Dream, rather than the best of Bernard Zed. Lindstrøm & Prins Thomas was, unfortunately, the worst offender. It felt embalmed, with whatever FM-lite leanings on display, rather than absorbed. Nothing on the album really came close to their remix work or Lindstrøm’s It’s a Feedelity Affair collection, and it only made me hungrier for that imaginary Michael Jackson collaboration, all of its sexiness in full bloom.
So it came as a pleasant surprise that Reinterpretations, a disc mostly comprised of reworkings of tracks from their self-titled debut, breaks out of that album’s glossy shell to claim its place alongside their headiest grooves. While it begins with the tepid “Turkish Delight,” a track I’ll have to resign myself to never quite getting, the majority of these tracks are pretty killer. Themes from the original tracks weave in and out, with L&PT revealing the real dancefloor stompers within. “Claudio,” in particular, has been thrown into a blender, and disorients until handclaps inevitably provide the bearings. Even better is “Vrang Og Vanskelig,” a hazy kraut workout which sounds like Gunter Schickert punching up John Carpenter. If Lindstrøm & Prins were to make a whole album in this vein, they could shame any Fujiya & Miyagi.
The two new tracks also don’t fail to disappoint. “Nummer Fire En” is a 20-minute jam that finds the group tapping into their inner Saint Etienne until they reach the breaking point, after which another seven minutes of the groove round out the track. “Nummer Fire To” is almost a complete 180, a down and dirty jump-into-the-fire rocker that announces its acoustic instrumentation loud and clear.
Both tracks leave the door wide open for the next album’s possibilities, and if the only way to think about Lindstrøm & Prins Thomas is to try to capture their reference points, this is precisely why. A history of music is embedded in their work, and though it can sometimes feel hermetically sealed in the past, the best amalgamates it for an unknown future. For someone as lost as MJ, it’d be the perfect wave to ride.
By Brad LaBonte
|
II