Wherever you stand with Ratatat, they can't be accused of inconsistency. The New York duo of Mike Stroud and Evan Mast has been stylish and functional from the start, right down to their name, which expresses the same concussive energy as their stomping hooks. Their sound-- slick electro-pop infused with hip-hop-- emerged fully formed on their 2004 self-titled debut, quickly making them a highly recognizable brand, and six years on, it retains the vitality that made it click in the first place.
Album number two, Classics, was more of the same, but fiercer. And though it would still be a few years until Ratatat began to earn rap production credits, cutting two tracks for Kid Cudi's Man on the Moon, they were already polishing up their hip-hop bona fides with a compelling remix series. From there, they decamped from Brooklyn to the Catskills' Old Soul Studios to record LP3, which managed, somehow, to derive no perceptible influence from the change of scenery, and had about as much charisma as its utilitarian title. Ratatat's style was in need of freshening up, and adding more keyboards to their live set didn't quite do the trick.
Unfortunately, LP4 is staler still, collecting the tracks from the Old Soul sessions that weren't released on the last record. Stroud and Mast attempt to provide some distinctive qualities by tossing in some novel instrumentation, but the inclusion of "Mahalo", a thin interlude that was already the B-side of LP3 single "Shiller", suggests bucket-scraping. An array of harpsichords, Japanese strings, and talkboxes are grafted on here in a seemingly desperate attempt to add some kind of variety, but the effects ultimately wind up feeling like limp distractions.
LP4 makes the classic mistake of trying to fix an exhausted sound by inundation instead of revision. Familiar fuzz-bomb chords and slinky, wailing guitar leads provide the foundation. Otherwise, quirky vocal samples still loosely frame the instrumentals, and soft-focused genre exercises-- a little bossa nova here ("Party With Children"), a little Balkan folk there ("Bare Feast")-- still prevail. Even the tightest tracks, like "Drugs", feel lukewarm compared to earlier work in a similar vein, while "Neckbrace" wanders through a rogue's gallery of studio indulgences without ever finding a clear center. Ratatat always aimed for the flashy yet mass-produced flavor of sub-luxe fashion and lifestyle accessories-- and for at least two albums, they hit their mark. But at this point, their sound is wearing increasingly thin and producing diminished results.
