Amon Tobin is one of my favorite musical artists; my favorite in the electronic genre. His work is often heavy, dark, atmospheric and beat driven. It tends to grind as often as thump, and though his roots are firmly in the drum and bass subgenre, he’s been steadily moving away from that for years.
In 2007, Tobin released Foley Room, an album that combined his superior and inventive layering skills with now expert-level skills in sound sample and manipulation – not many artists could turn the roars of lions and motorcycles into tracks that are both calming and plus-quickening.
Since then he has released a number of tracks via his website (which is more digital art than functional information and shopping). Some of these tracks were free, others were sold. I downloaded and enjoyed most of them.
So when I heard Tobin was hard at work on a new album, I put in my preorder as soon as I could.
ISAM, Tobin’s latest, releases on 5/24/2011, but those of us who preordered have already been able to download the lossless MP3s for the album.
Sadly, at least for me, ISAM is no Foley Room. And it is not the follow up I was hoping for based on his previous works and the recent internet downloads. (Not to mention the dubstep trend in electronic music – a subgenre that Tobin could utterly dominate if he put effort in that direction).
Here’s the thing, ISAM is not “bad.” And it’s not that the direction he’s taken is necessarily illogical or off the mark. The tracks are all generally easy to identify as Tobin. The problem is that Tobin seems to have traded song creation for experimental soundscape construction. We are listening to an expert at audio collage. The tracks sound experimental — less melodic and story driven than his previous work and more purposefully discordant. ISAM could be (and very well may be) the soundtrack to a twisted fairy tale.
The result, then, is a 14-track album that, when I first listened to the samples, rubbed me the wrong way. The sounds being sampled and manipulated are not (or not obviously) as primal as a lion’s roar, they are not as powerfully seductive as the rumble of a motorcycle, not as heart-stopping as a full throttle drum and bass track. Instead, these are noises that preschooler’s toys would make if they sprouted a consciousness and then promptly lost their minds.
Still, Tobin is a complex musician and sometimes the tracks can’t be judged by mere samples. The thing is, my first full listen to the entire album left me with a similar feeling. I can appreciate what he’s going for. His skill is still very apparent. His drive to layer more deeply, with greater sophistication, is apparent. But much like any cutting edge or experimental art, I think it will lose a large part of the audience. While I can appreciate the skill and artistry at work, I don’t find it necessarily enjoyable, a quality I demand in the music I listen to regularly.
Not wanting mood or first impressions to taint my experience, I listened again and again, with more effort and attention.
After a handful of times through the album, I’ve determined that only three of the fourteen tracks will make it into my regular listening rotation: Journeyman, Lost & Found, and One Last Look (which I believe is actually a bonus track not found on the regular album). This is below average. Usually there are only one or two tracks on an album that I don’t care for. This time, it’s nearly all of them. I may tolerate the other tracks when the right mood hits, or if they sneak into a random listening session, but I can’t see myself seeking them out.
I have a couple of caveats: First, the album gets more listenable with repeat listening. Whether this is the product of a deep desire to like the work or a genuine statement on the quality of select tunes, I don’t know. Second, for die-hard fans, and for fans that enjoy his more experimental pieces, this is still a solid purchase. At the heart of each track you will hear nuggets of gold, the promise of beats and melodies, the bubbling call of a sub aural beast. And to the truly dedicated listener, each track becomes an onion whose layers are waiting to be peeled back. But each time a beat or hook is picked up, it is dropped too soon, without exploration or evolution (which he is usually great at).
What I have found, then, is an album that skirts the edge of greatness, never quite tumbling over the edge and too often retreating just when things get interesting. The tracks are neither deep enough nor shallow enough, complex or simple enough for me to truly enjoy. I want to let go, but I can’t. In most cases, the parts of the songs I wanted to hear explored are those which he discards too readily in favor of either a new sound entirely, or a purposefully jarring change in direction.
Tobin has by no means lost me. I remain a fan and I eagerly await whatever comes next. But I’m far more likely to put together a playlist of my past favorites than to listen to ISAM in its entirety again.
That’s the problem with genius I suppose: Sometimes people are able to follow along and appreciate the wondrous creations it produces and sometimes they get lost in the complexity, unable to see the beauty of the creation.