Brooks: Red Tape
Soundslike

Red Tape comes adorned with cover imagery of peacock feathers and majestic architecture, leading one to wonder if the musical content of Andrew Brooks' Red Tape will exude similar qualities of delicate elegance and towering strength. Coming after You Me And Us, it's the second full-length from this twenty-two-year old house music producer, though its dark and sometimes apocalyptic mood sets it apart from the customary jubilance one encounters on the dance floor. Apparently, the album's darker portrait is to some degree a reflection of Brooks' experiences as a gay man and his disaffection with the sanitized media representation of the gay lifestyle.

Most tracks are built from a varying base of tech-house—“Burning Buxx,” for example, deploys pounding, even abrasive, beats as accompaniment for its militant vocal delivery, while “Tell Somebody About Us” rocks and skips towards an infectious, dense close—though clear contrasts do emerge that differentiate one song from another. “Roxxy” is distinguished not only for its jittery beats and Benet Walsh's laconic vocal delivery but also a scratchy, raunchy guitar solo. Similarly, it's less the whomping beats in “Bedbugs” and more the multi-tracked clarinet flutter (reminiscent of The Lounge Lizards) that one remembers. Brooks offers a more acidic take on Matthew Dear's vocal-based microhouse in “Enormous Members' Club” though the ultra-annoying background wail might have been better omitted; still, the track is sweetened by an angelic harp coda.

There's a pronounced sexual dimension to the album, and that's certainly appealing where the slinky, goth-inflected groove of “Restoration” is concerned. But Red Tape is also marred by the juvenile sexual innuendo of “Do The Math” and Brooks' cover of PJ Harvey's “Man-Size” (revel instead in the deeply rocking tribal techno chant that Brooks conjures for it). The low point, however, arrives in “A Little Bit Of Time,” a promising exercise in pounding electro-house derailed by overwrought vocals. Interestingly enough, the track that impresses most is the least representative—the title song which closes the recording with an expansive orchestral arrangement and pounding tech-house beats; in fact, the song's accordion and bass clarinet flavourings recall Matthew Herbert which shouldn't surprise given his role as Soundslike label head. By this stage, it should be clear that Red Tape is a complex and provocative work that leaves a vivid impression not only for moments of distinction but for occasional moments of disappointment too.

November 2004