| It’s a rare turn of events when one takes the name of a mythological figure and manages to follow in the massive footsteps on such a namesake. Alfred Weisberg-Roberts assumed the easier-on-the-tongue and stickier-to-the-brain name Daedelus from the Daedalus of ancient Greek mythology (I mean, how do you pick up chicks with that god-given moniker?). Like his adopted ancestor, Daedelus is a master inventor. He concocts dizzying formulas for eclectic blends of IDM, hip-hop, downtempo and other electronic tomfoolery sharply juxtaposed with samples from the 30s and 40s, as well as exotic non-Western world sounds. At his best, Daedelus weaves his seemingly disparate palate of sounds into seamless tapestries of compelling, peerless ambient dance trance music. Unlike his forbear, this Daedelus can both escape a tower (without allowing his son Icarus to fly too close to the sun) and ensnare a Minotaur. Figuratively, of course. The scion of Santa Monica’s creative legacy, Daedelus lugs his unlimited arsenal of musical munitions to Denies the Day’s Demise. No foe to experimentation, he outdid himself on previous releases (Invention and The Quiet Party) splicing together random strips of sounds that on paper looked preposterous (a 30s film score with Busdriver rhyming over it?). Listening to Daedelus has always felt like perusing a musical history book, if you read one chapter on say Count Basie, then flipped to a sentence on Massive Attack. Indeed, Daedelus sounds like he spends many a lazy Sunday afternoon combing through the used bins of Good Wills across California. The booty of such record hunts can be heard all over Denies the Day’s Demise. The constant programmed beats bubble throughout, steady bass drum hits propelling the songs to varying speeds and tempos. As with any chef worth their salt, Daedelus gives a theme to each record. This time around it’s a Latin-tinged affair. “Sundown” features such southern hemispheric sounds and rhythms to glorious effect. A downtempo shuffle segues into a steady bossa stomp. Amir Yaghmai’s dry, soothing vocals peak from behind a curtain of shakers, moroccas and handclaps. Suddenly there’s the swelling rush of audience cheers and the song continues shifting like a rolling sea. “Bahia” borders on more African-tinged musical fare, backed by bass clarinet. It’s bossa nova meets IDM, Joao Gilberto shaking hands with Amon Tobin. “Lights Out” moves at a similarly smooth pace, though launches off into all sorts of diverse terrain. Daedelus begins the song as traditional trip hop, before breaking into Latin rhythms and then weaving into the musical fabric 30s-40s classical arrangements. The varied fibers sound impressive when so finely connected as a unified whole. “Our Last Stand” again employs bossa nova moves with drum ‘n bass, displaying Daedelus’ unique gift for mastering such shifts in style. But like his namesake’s son, this Daedelus too soars perilously close to that orange orb on hastily glued together wings. Some songs sound too cut-up and thrown together to leave much impact, such as “Nouveau Nova” and “Sawtooth EKG.” As with many artists of electronic-based genres, Daedelus’ predilection towards quantity sometimes outweighs his quality. An album of fifteen songs is a bit much to take, regardless of who makes it. Yet Daedelus is talented enough to persevere a surprisingly high percentage of the time. |
2XLP/Out Of Print