Flying Lotus
Los Angeles

Less famous than Aphex Twin, less known than Tom Jenkinson (do you know Squarepusher?), but definitely the darkest of the trio.

Dark and needless to say from Los Angeles, "hip-hop music producer with electronic influences", this is how Flying Lotus, born Steven Ellison, defines himself, a member of the Coltrane family (Alice's nephew), and the latest pride of Warp. Aunt and uncle "souls" of jazz and always traveling around the world, he, since adolescence, has always been around with the mixer. Raised on bread and gangsta-rap (and it would be hard not to be on the West Coast), he slowly began to collect vinyl records, "cuts" them, smudges and overlaps the sounds, adds Afro-futuristic rhythms. This could already be an accurate overview of the CD in question, but it still lacks the absolute main character, the one that if you have your late grandfather's stereo system you will never encounter and fully enjoy: the beat. More precisely, the beat combined with an almost surgical bass extension, the kind that if you have "the Lady's stereo system" should pulsate and open you up right at the center of your chest without compromise.

I should talk to you about the songs. I should, but I find it tough. Try writing a review of an album like this. What do I tell you? About that Hendrix-flavored guitar solo at X minutes? About a magical vocal performance at the fifteenth of the second time? No. I wouldn't know. So, I cut, layer, and synthesize too: "44 minutes of future-black-music to be listened to all in one go, preferably standing very close to Mr. Subwoofer". If Brother Groove possesses you, surrender and let yourself be taken from within. At that point, you'll find yourself in the midst of the vortex but will feel at peace with yourself. If the experience doesn't satisfy you, there will be little to do. If you ever meet someone who talks to you about chillout, long lounge atmospheres, dubstep, or minimal ambient, you'll look at him the same way you're looking at this album cover: you'll continue not to understand a thing.

Los Angeles like you've never seen it before, no sunny boulevards and rows of palm trees flanking the sea, "Hollywood" written on the hills is just a mirage. The triumph of anti-tradition, posthumous music that arrives straight from who knows what future, one of the best productions of the British record label, certainly the best of 2008. All that's left is for you to climb aboard the flying lotus too; I've been on it for a while...

Rating: 4.5