Six years on from its release, Psyence Fiction-- the long-simmering pet project of Mo'Wax founder James Lavelle and his then-UNKLE co-conspirator/meal ticket DJ Shadow-- still ranks as one of the most anti-climactic and jaw-dropping disappointments of recent years. Seemingly powered by Lavelle's own sense of self-satisfaction, the record pulled off an odd triple crown: it was overcooked, half-baked, and underdone all at the same time. An epochal mix of atmospheric, experimental hip-hop and soul-stirring rock, Psyence Fiction was an unapologetic attempt to create an epic Statement of a record, but while long on star power and ambition, it came up short on little things like, oh, vitality, restraint, emotional resonance, and tunes.
From the go, Psyence Fiction was highly anticipated by writers who assumed it would produce greatness. Instead, they got lazy Hello Nasty melodies, Entroducing-outtake breakbeats, and guest spots that seemed mismatched with the project itself. Despite Mike D's phoned-in wisp of a cameo, the biggest raspberries must go to the always punchable Richard Ashcroft whose "Lonely Soul" is so seeped in new age pandering and the drive to be Very, Very Important that, were compact discs not limited to 80 minutes, it would probably still be teasing us with false stops and pointlessly unspooling to this day.
Lavelle's decision to follow with another UNKLE record is laudable for its gumption if not its wisdom, but it's no surprise that, as much as the four-years-in-the-making Psyence Fiction was anticipated, Never Never Land was ignored (even by your pals at Pitchfork-- after all, the record was released in the UK more than four months ago). After mostly handling the conceptual and marketing details of the first UNKLE record, Lavelle took a greater role in the musical conception of this disc. DJ Shadow is out as Lavelle's right-hand man, now replaced by the largely unknown Richard File (though it might have been wiser, if only for publicity, to bring back the DFA's Tim Goldsworthy, an original UNKLE member from the pre-Shadow days). And the new roster of guest stars-- among them, Stone Roses vocalist Ian Brown, Queens of the Stone Age's Josh Homme, and Massive Attack's 3D, plus uncredited appearances from Brian Eno and Jarvis Cocker-- doesn't have the same sort of A-list ring offered by the first record. And yet, in spite (or because?) of all this, it's an improvement on the past.
Never Never Land seems to address its predecessors' failure and Lavelle's own spiraling career right from the start, as a spoken-word sample (rather wince-inducingly) describes life as a series of peaks and valleys. Lavelle's basic approach to music-making hasn't changed. He still trades in texture and atmosphere, favoring sweeping strings, cinematic grandeur, a mix of pop sensibilities with downtempo music, and an obsession with science fiction. The addition of File lends a more human quality to the tracks, largely because his hand guides a series of voices whereas Psyence Fiction had Shadow dealing more with a series of personalities or stars. File's arid singer/songwriter approach and wistful vocals lend Never Never Land a breezy quality, but also little to pin down or ground the tracks. Rhythm is almost completely replaced here by often drifting atmospherics, and of File's key contributions, only the graceful "What Are You to Me?" really shines. When beats are central to the tracks-- as on the Joy Division-sampling paranoia of "Panic Attack"-- they're oddly compelling.
Of the guests, 3D's "Invasion" chides Bush and Blair (a theme also hinted at on the Temptations-quoting "Eye for an Eye") but pulls too few punches, Homme's "Safe in Mind" is spacious but forgettable, and Cocker and Eno lend a couple of hands to a sleepy ambient exercise. Oddly, Ian Brown's batty echo chamber "Reign" is appropriate spliff-casualty stuff and among the album's strongest tracks. So Never Never Land is far from being either vindicating or enthralling. It's sometimes paranoid, sometimes aimless head music. This time, there weren't any UNKLE action figures or other branding attempts, just a quiet record that was quietly released and has (already) quietly slipped away. It's just as well: Considering the buildup to, quality of, and career fallout following Psyence Fiction, anonymity may suit Lavelle. It at least positions him to regroup, crawl out of his valley, and aim once again for those peaks.
