| · Why all the hubbub, bub?
Unkle (James Lavalle and former bandmate DJ Shadow) were once the dark horse of pre-millennial angst. Operating under the radar, their debut full-length, Psyence Fiction, made music that became the in sound from their way out – located somewhere way, way over there.
On this album, Shadow is no longer present. Instead, Richard File, another member of the Unkle experience, takes his place in queue. Shadow’s absence is obvious – the quirky, dark undertow has been abandoned for the halcyon of Lavelle’s too frequent euro-dance festival dates. Lavalle’s party anthem glow-schtick has been hoisted high, and Never Never Land sounds like a half-ill-conceived euro dance album that reaps when it should plow and follows when it should guide. It sounds like he’s trying to find the middle ground between Primal Scream and Massive Attack – an admirable venture, but he’s lost in the ketamine-soaked azure of never never land. He’s gotten so clever that he’s introduced an Ozzy sample at the beginning of the album, as if to buy cred with generation realité.
He proves far better at cultivating bug-powder dust than snorting Tinkerbell’s dulcet charm. Consider this Lavalle-lite – insipid and forgettable, but, like many former sherpas of the movement, destined to be his most remembered pop album. Those looking for Psyence Fiction (part two) would be advised to seek out David Holmes and the Free Association.
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