There isn't much room for small gestures in the work of New York-based sound designer Aaron David Ross. On Exo, the album he released last year as one half of electronic duo Gatekeeper, the peaks were something akin to Meatloaf producer Jim Steinman getting behind the mixing desk for the Chemical Brothers. Ross doesn't shy away from listing big beat among his influences-- it's a genre he returns to on Chunky Monkey, the second solo album under his ADR alias, released by Hippos in Tanks. But while Exo was concerned with creating a great glut of noise, Chunky Monkey finds strength in the kind of loopy frivolity practiced by Fatboy Slim or Bentley Rhythm Ace. Despite wearing those influences hard on its sleeve, it's not an entirely backward looking pursuit; this is a record just as inspired by the blinding colors of Rustie's maniacal techno as it is by the Skint Records roster.
The central difference between ADR and Gatekeeper comes from how relaxed Ross sounds here. There's a palpable sense of excitement to each track, a feeling of someone thinking about everything they've ever been influenced by and trying to cram it all into a four-minute dash to the finish line. So we get smoky '80s cocktail jazz butting up against jungle drums and loping reggae basslines, sometimes executed to great success, sometimes sounding like a mess that Ross couldn't quite untangle. Either way, it's clear that he had a wail of a time getting there, even if it's not always as fun to listen to as it was to make. At times it even feels like you're there with him, watching his thought process at work: When "Social Studies" leaps from sax solo to acid bleeps there's a great dip in the track, a moment of hesitation that makes it sound like Ross is scratching his head, lost for an idea of where to go next.
However, that lack of purposeful forward momentum is Chunky Monkey’s biggest flaw. With Rustie, you always feel like he's built his domain and mastered it, allowing him to operate with a very precise idea of where to go next and why. Here, Ross goes back and forth between carefully refined material and loose strands of thought that don't lead anywhere particularly inspiring. Sometimes it even happens within the space of a single track-- "Big Daddy" meanders into directionless electronic ambience before gaining a greater sense of design through finely clipped jungle drums, cut-up vocal passages, and a series of spaced-out loops set to delicately dance around one another. The warped country-reggae hybrid "Stray Dog Strut" is the highlight, offering a demonstration of Ross's skill for sounding like warring musicians finding unlikely common ground.
The entire purpose of ADR seems to come from deriving harmony from ostensibly jarring parts, another nod back to the kind of how-deep-is-your-record-bag approach that really took hold in the '90s. It owes a decent amount to the Dust Brothers' production on Beck's Odelay, although nothing here stands out in the same way that, say, the low-key funk of "The New Pollution" from that record does. Instead, Chunky Monkey’s charm comes from the childlike glee induced by herky-jerky pop tracks such as the bright "Whiz Kids" or the nods to acid jazz and drum and bass that burn through at a furious pace on "Slush Fund". It only loosely holds together as an album, never really finding the kind of cohesion to make it pass in a pleasingly blinding flash. Proof, if more were needed, that taking a mind-bending gallop through music history and leaving a recognizable imprint on it is clearly a tough art to master.
