This CD from Verplanken, one-man synthmeister from France (a prior release, now that his new CD "The Missing Tracks" is out), is average in scope but contains many exciting ideas and combinations involving both musique concrète and prog rock ideals. The mostly vocal-less disc is a pleasant mixture of symphonic loops, footsteps, piano scramble and low, repeated utterances. "Paradise," the nearly ten-minute opener, broods along nicely like a lapping ocean shore, and gives one fond recollections of the introductory suite "Shine On You Crazy Diamond" from Pink Floyd's Wish You Were Here album. Fifth up, "Sputnik Ghost Dance," is a nearly humorous display of synth wash at a swing tempo, superimposed with a robot voice repeating the song's title. Track number seven, "Lost Interlude," makes you think of a chorus of summer insects that won't stop trilling their hypnotic patterns. Autopsy isn't too long of a disc, running at just the right duration (about 38 minutes) to leave you wanting more. And by the way, "Autopsy of a Dream" is my favorite title of anything I have reviewed here thus far. Good going, yo.

Abstract electro rhythms and melodies that are very similar to Plateau (that's cEvin Key) and has the flavor of early OMD. The brains behind NIMP, French solo artist Guillaume Eluerd, has issued and titled this CD of his as if it were a blueprint presentation of some kind, complete with a Flash/Quicktime interactive file and cool custom metal box for the disc. The interactive sports not only some nifty, weird collage art pieces, but links to both Eluerd's own website and that of his label. Nothing too groundbreaking, yet a pleasant listen. The best on here are the final three, brooding tracks, "Creeps," "The Final Boy" and "La Balançoire Américaine" ("the American swing". Somebody please email and tell me what that's supposed to mean, would you?)

Trumpet and acoustic guitar duet Tiner and Baggeta serve up a dozen tracks of their own original compositions. Spare, ultra-modern and nonlinear, the musical pieces are all founded on improvisation, with little or no symmetry. That does not mean they don't make sense, in and of themselves--they do; but instead of melody lines and rhythm, you hear mostly grunting bursts of horn over jumbled, jangly, atonal guitar scuffle. In track number ten, "One More Chance," these lapses into madness are broken by islands of melodic calm. At other times the guitar becomes a percussion instrument (with knuckle tapping) and is bowed into raspy scree with a violin bow (by Baggeta, in this case a guitarist obviously not trying to be Jimmy Page).

While this well-made yet spartan recording brings plenty of atmosphere with it, I have a hard time picturing its context. Is it romantic or existential? Urban or pastoral? Lyrical or elegaic? Jazzy or more classical? Does it take after Stravinsky or Coltrane more? It could be that its many ambiguities are what's good about There, Just As You Look For It, in the first place. It depends on how impressed one is by musicians who are able to get as many different varieties of sound out of their instruments in a non-rock-and-roll or non-electronic-music setting, without smashing them to bits. If this were a live recording, then perhaps it might be more convincing. I can't decide, so therefore you must.

The problem with most soundtrack music is that its intent is only to accompany a movie--the visual component that you don't experience while listening to a CD. Unless it's a movie you've seen a million times because you love it, and hearing the soundtrack serves to enhance it in your memory, you're only getting half the art. To complicate the matter, the music on the new two-disc opus of Netherlands-based artist Michel Banabila, "Hilarious Expedition," was composed for not just one, but a variety of film and theatre productions, using a small army of instrumentalists and vocalists. Pastiches of piano and organ instrumentals, orchestral passages intercut with backward loops, alternately loungey and dramatic instrumental pieces, sped-up tape, abstract sound samplings, street scenes (recorded in Rotterdam, Cracow and Prague), and dialogue presumably from the films or plays themselves, unfortunately do not add up to a cohesive listening experience. How can they?--unless this were a Nonesuch Explorer release entitled, "Sounds of the European Filmmaking Underground." There are simply too many influences for any but the ultimate eclectics to enjoy all the way through.

This is to say, however, that Hilarious Expedition is a very worthwhile listen--there are some great tracks to cherry-pick: "Salar's Dream," on Disc 1 with its sad Gypsy violin; the freaky, computer-voiced "Speech" and "My Brain Is Electric;" and the hushed, subtle menace of "Metals" on Disc 2. Most of the music is not "hilarious" at all, but downright somber and brooding. It is all extremely well-performed and -produced, but you won't find too much that you haven't already heard from Brian Eno, Aphex Twin, Massive Attack and similar fine purveyors of Ambient Groove.

I would only recommend a work of this scope and magnitude (nearly two and a half hour's worth) to serious soundtrack enthusiasts or the aforementioned eclectics to begin with. Those who have enough of the acquired tastes, not to mention the patience, will be rewarded by the gems of strange beauty you will find amid this tangled slag heap. Anyone seeking a cohesive album that makes sense from start to finish will be less than thrilled. If only everybody could appreciate sleeping under a stone bridge outside of Prague in a cold morning drizzle, waking up to an old, crazy street musician making funny farting noises by blowing through the wrong end of a trumpet. I myself definitely do, but I think I'd sooner watch the films first. (With subtitles, of course.)

I give southern California-based goth rock troopers Mephisto Walz every bit of credit that I can find from their latest release, Insidious, for upholding the true spirit of Christian Death (of which Walz instrumentalist Bari-Bari, t/n Barry Galvin, was once a member), but they seem to be running out of breathing room. Certain of the song concepts work really well--in "A Magic Bag," the first track, singer Christianna tells this story:

"William likes his suffering
All the attention-love it brings
Club to club he revels 'round
Another fool for the lost and found
William is a serious guy
Carries a sword by his side
Tied with twine to a ragged string
His idea of a wedding ring

"A magic bag suddenly appears
Plastic straws like rabbit ears
Carved bone dice across the bed
He took his coat, covered up his head
And to his made up gods he cried
Give me another place to hide
William likes his many friends
Lives his life to meet their ends"
...

We definitely want to hear more about pagan lost souls like William, who perfectly mirrors so many among us--the dice-carrying, Medieval sword-wielding, RenFaire-going, role-playing gamer, who can't seem to figure out which world he really belongs in. Sound familiar, anyone? (I assume, too, speaking of Christian Death, that in an alternate sense there's no intended reference here to poor Rozz Williams?) "Nightingale," an interpolation of lines from "Ode to a Nightingale" by John Keats, and Handel's "Ombra Mai Fu" aria, rendered on synth with a guest vocalist, make up the last two tracks. But Keats and Handel can't save the fact that MW could use a few shots in the arm. This CD, and their genre in general, are awfully close to falling into a formulaic rut, as the particular Cocteau Twins and Dead Can Dance influences they employ here and there sound less and less refreshing. The sixth track, "I Want," which has a chorus that strongly recalls Berlin's "Riding On the Metro," would indicate to some that MW are in desperate need of some new musical DNA. And it could be said that, by handling all of their own recording and arranging, MW are staying true to the punk-rock, do-it-yourself ethos in which they were initially forged as a band (not to mention staying within budget, always a legitimate concern). Still, a session drummer (for example) would have bolstered their production significantly (fellow Christian Death alum drummer David Glass makes an appearance on "One Last Day," but that's it). Make no mistake, the songwriting and overall pacing of Insidious is great, and those MW fans whose hindsight is less than 20/20 will be immune to any cliches. But we all still deserve better, and should rather see them break the mould next time around.