Nigel Godrich epitomized the sound of the late 90s alt-rock-- that combination of space-age expanse and dystopian dread that thrust Radiohead super nova, made a low-key Beck album sound epic, and invested a band as unassuming as Pavement with a little sci-fi swoosh. But while Thom Yorke remains his most loyal client-cum-collaborator, Godrich’s production aesthetic has greatly evolved with the times, his current interest in complex electronic patterns and nervy West African-inspired rhythms emblematic of both 21st-century global connectivity and technological dependency. His similarly styled concurrent projects with drummer Joey Waronker-- the electro-pop trio Ultraísta and the more high-profile, Yorke-fronted supergroup Atoms for Peace-- evince the infinite possibilities of the digital age and the claustrophic constrictions of being tied to your machines. Accordingly, both bands have the tendency to feel untamed and caged-in at the same time.
Atoms for Peace, of course, boast an awesome, globe-trotting live show that overpowers the contained quality of their recordings. Ultraísta, however, tour on a much more limited scale, so we have this alternative version of their 2012 debut-- as reassembled by an eclectic, star-studded cast of beatmakers, and at least one legendary director-- to proffer a second opinion. Remixes, however, is a bit of a misnomer. Given Godrich’s densely packed productions, the process at play here is more like an unraveling, an opportunity to peel back the high-beam synths that smother so many Ultraísta tracks and expose the darker undercurrents and sense of unrest bubbling underneath. Presenting radical reconstructions-- and, in some cases, marked improvements-- of each song from the original record in a resequenced order, Remixes makes encouraging strides in addressing the source material’s chief shortcoming: specifically, that every song followed the same formula, to the point of making singer Laura Bettinson sound automated, pre-set. When you have everyone from Four Tet to David Lynch on board, uniformity is no longer going to be an issue.
As if to reinforce the notion that Remixes is meant to be heard as a complete, alternate-universe version of the original album rather than a random collection, the new record uses Ultraísta’s closing track, “You’re Out,” as its jumping-off point, with Prefuse 73 retaining its broken-beat cadence but gradually opening up greater fissures in the rhythm bed that hint at the more dramatic deconstructions to come. Not every track recovers from surgery: Zero 7’s slow-motion Italo-disco disassembly of “Our Song” plods on for far too long only to set up a standard-issue chillout-house groove, while FaltyDL’s smoothed-over “Gold Dayzz” nudges Ultraísta further into café-compilation territory. (A bonus vinyl-only EP offers three additional takes on the latter, highlighted by an exemplary psychedelic tabla-funk transformation by Boom Bip.)
The most succesful remixes here-- from Four Tet’s garage-clattered “Smalltalk” to Canon Blue’s Mezzanine-level “Party Line”-- retain the originals’ melodic integrity but wisely opt to showcase Bettinson’s voice in isolation, lending her a more ghostly presence. Books guitarist Nick Zammuto’s bone-dry take on “Easier” is especially revelatory, pitting the main vocal line against an anxiously panting backing track and spartan drum beats, drawing out an eeriness and menace barely perceptible on the original. Or, in other cases, they subject Bettinson to sonic abuse: Herbert’s “Static Light” filters her voice through distorted sax squwaks, whereas gloomy Brooklyn post-punk outfit Eraas takes the title of “Wash It Over” literally, submerging the track in a murky techno that slowly drowns the original to death. But the most spectacular revision here is the simplest, and it comes from the unlikeliest participant: Lynch, who reduces “Strange Formula” to a dirty, PJ Harvey-worthy blues with a tick-tock beat that summons an intensifying apocalyptic drone to swallow the song whole. Ultraísta’s synth-pop odysseys always sounded like they were begging for a more widescreen treatment-- who better to provide it than one of our greatest filmmakers?
