I'll say this for Ninja Tune: they're consistent with their product. They've developed a label identity that encompasses the ghosts of trip-hop and acid jazz, the freshness of engaging laptop hip-hop, and a cantankerous enjoyment of taking the piss out of all three. As a result, they're responsible for some of the most enjoyable and versatile electronic albums available, bridging genre gaps at every turn like they were cracks in the sidewalk. But when you're dishing out a product that the kiddies are digging, it becomes risky to switch things up. Crystal Pepsi, New Coke: you fuck with the formula slightly, and the consumer switches to some other brand till you bring back the classic stuff. Better to go the Pop-Tarts route-- give 'em 20 different flavors of the same pastry goodness-- and watch the units shift.
In that sense, Pest's energetic, balls-out Necessary Measures is a success. It manages to taste like something (sort of) new using ingredients that can be found on any other disc in the Ninja Tune cupboard. Coming on like a more street-savvy hooligan incarnation of here-today-gone-today sensations The Avalanches, Pest spice up turntablism and jazzy breaks with a dash of party funk and sampledelia, aiming for a Solid Steel milestone. What they give us isn't quite so revelatory, but the pure manic energy the group exhibits keeps their debut album from getting completely lost in the newest wave of Ninja Tune products, which includes Super Numeri, Hint, Fog, and Jaga Jazzist.
In execution, Pest couldn't do the Ninja Tune sound more justice. From the get-go they're lanky and rubbery, laying down fuzzy bass carpets, and slotting in horn and piano samples like they just hit the crate diggers' jackpot. The swingin' "Duke Kerb Crawler" keeps the big band bluster in check with a lazy beat, punctuated by stabs of brass, and Pest follow it up with the string-heavy "Jefferson Shuffle", a mash-up of symphonic soap opera theme music, snappy percussion, and a hilarious vocal bridge that devolves into a serious hip-hop break that occupies space somewhere between Ultramagnetic MCs and a wild bar mitzvah. "Dr. Umz", which begins as a fairly annoying loop only Mr. Magoo could love, explodes once Blackalicious' Gift of Gab starts rockin' the mic with his usual breathless cadence, turning what began as a lackluster four minutes into a definite keeper.
When Pest play their cards right, they come across like Medeski, Martin & Wood or Bullfrog, packing a healthy underground swagger that permeates whatever genre they throw into the pot. But even when they're doing things right, their success is dictated by the prevailing laws of Ninja Tune. They fit the label's profile to a T, and so anything they do right on Necessary Measures is stuff you've heard done right before. With the exception of the closer (track five on the vinyl version), "Relief", with its jangling, Paul Simon-circa-Graceland guitar and inventive, lo-fi beat, everything here is disposable-- even the good stuff. Pest don't need any help sounding indistinguishable, but at least half of the ten tracks here seem ready and willing to lend a hand in the effort. The thick "Heard Your Bird Moved In" could easily be a Mr. Scruff outtake, and Gift of Gab was already put to much better use by DJ Vadim. And for all of its lovely moments, "St. Pest" is guilty of robbing Animals on Wheels' piano closet blind.
Removed from the context of the Ninja Tune multiverse, perhaps Pest would fair better. But my instincts tell me that Necessary Measures would remain indistinct no matter what label was putting it out. To put it another way, the album tastes pretty good, but I've been drinking this down since '96. Instead of producing a sound that comfortably approximates what's come before, Pest should be working on their strengths and fine-tuning their approach, finding their own identity. So what if it ends up tasting like Coke II? There must have been someone out there that just couldn't get enough of that shit.
