Last year, when Alias personally released a highly limited edition, self-manufactured black-CDR instrumental version of his true debut, The Other Side of the Looking Glass, it became exceedingly clear where his interests were heading-- and where his potential was greatest. Though by no means an anemic MC, those instrumental tracks revealed Alias' inspired production and germinal compositional skill to be his leading endowment and most intriguing contemplative outlet. Eyes Closed is his first, full-fledged instrumental-only release, and though a testament to why every member of his Anticon crew (in addition to other visionaries such as Atmosphere mastermind Slug, Sage Francis, and Markus Acher of, yep, The Notwist) has collaborated with him, it also fails to meet its own standards of compulsion for the entirety of its brief twenty minute junket, and rarely breaks form.
The album's recipe is familiar: drones, synths, skittish and contrasting percussion rhythms (typically intensified throughout the track or cascaded down after a calculated lull), and some TV or radio vocal overdubs all cooked into a spacious, moody concoction. The first three songs file in dutifully after one another, each producing the same temperate effect and utilizing media snippets of vanilla anti-consumer flavoring. Unfortunately, there's no real bite to the message, musically or philosophically. "Must Consume", in fact, sounds deceptively akin to the Dust Brothers' work on the Fight Club soundtrack, both in tone and anti-capitalist propagation, detracting from the piece's relevancy. "Eyes Closed" is a little more sparsely produced, but the immediate ferrying in of the anti-Bush rider suffocates the track.
The finest work is done on "Dec. 26th, 2002", and while never fully stepping out of the (DJ) Shadow to shine on its own right, it does employ excellent mood manipulation and a fine release of tension, and winds up the only track that says something-- without, uh, saying anything. It's nervous and suspecting, reserved and taut, and manages to escape the fetters of parody. Like each track, the production itself is sterling, retaining a gritty laptop personal touch without forfeiting sonic acuity.
None of the songs excavate new ground, and with each track clocking at under five minutes no single moment is able to breathe free long enough to truly sink in. Perhaps with vocal textures these cuts would suffice, but on their own they're too naked to stand straight. Previous Anticon releases such as Why's Oaklandazulasylum, or even Alias' early work in Deep Puddle Dynamics succeeded primarily on two counts: vision and balls. Eyes Closed has one, but distinctly lacks the other.
