Enemy Earth: Interstellar Commute
Eat Concrete

The needle skips into the groove to begin “Stay Shining” and it's an apt way to signal the kind of dusty, low-riding vibe coursing through this 12-inch vinyl (and digital) release from Enemy Earth, the musical outlet of one Recor. Mix laid-back head-nod, oodles of astral-hip-hop atmosphere, and a plunderphonic tour through crates of albums past and you're on your way to realizing Interstellar Commute's collagistic sound. Everything from jazz saxophone musings to Middle Eastern dulcimer playing surfaces during Recor's kaleidoscopic exploration of the “cosmopolitan underground.” The global-traveling material presents the listener with rapidly-changing scenery: “Toaster” inhabits the black pit of a queasy stomach, the Middle Eastern-inflected “Slop” occupies the center of a chanting collective, and “Shinobi-no-mono” visits a Japanese temple where a flutist solos meditatively. Augmented by Avrey Muela's guitar licks, “Moonwlk” moves even further out by slipping on slinky hip-hop and funk gear for a brief extraterrestrial excursion. Top of the pops in this case might well be “Motto sh*t,” which oozes such delicious beat snap it might have come straight from the Dilla factory, though the tripped-out dreaminess of “Sword art” comes close to matching it. Interstellar Commute gives the listener lots to dig into even if, at twenty-six minutes, the album's ten tracks come and go quickly.

May 2009