Something was wrong with Lali Puna's last album. The band shares associations with the Notwist-- a hometown, members, brothers-- but up until that last record, their roles were still distinct. The Notwist were the "rock" ones, a hardcore outfit that turned to grand, electronically-sculpted, occasionally-boring indie; Lali Puna, on the other hand, dove a lot more fully into the electronics. Yes, they played like a band, and plenty of their material brought on the bass for some proper Germanic pulse. But their most distinctive moments-- as of 2001's Scary World Theory-- were the ones where the attenuated tick of a spaced-out beat popped through the mix, or singer Valerie Trebeljahr was left humming over a minimalist bed of synths. This is what we came to expect: Simple hums and airy whispers and sleepy like you wouldn't believe.
And then last year's Faking the Books, an album that had them trending nearly as rock-like as the Notwist. Not a bad move, market-wise, considering the success of the latter's Neon Golden. If you're anything like me, though, you made a bunch of unpleasant noises and took a pass. And if you're anything like me, you might be somewhat happier with I Thought I was Over That, which collects enough remixes, remixing, and rarities to fit with the mechanized camp where-- according to those of us who are still reading this review-- they probably belong. Just try not to remember that they're all collected snapshots from the band's past.
Not to say that it's all super-wonderful; some tracks are worth it, others aren't. The surprise is that it's as cohesive as it is, with remixers and remixes alike plumbing the same lines of soft-edged, computer-processed home-listening lullabies. Something about Lali Puna's full-band sound has always kept them distinct from their closest compu-pop cousins-- say, Styrofoam, Ulrich Schnauss, Dntel-- but fans of that cadre will find plenty here to like, assuming they haven't already snatched up the Morr Music releases a lot of these tracks hail from.
Nineteen tracks, and they all at least sound gorgeous. Dntel gets a softened, vocal-free treatment of "(This Is) The Dream of Evan and Chan"; it works even better now than in 2001, with its warm tones sounding something like the memory of a years-old favorite. Tamborello returns the favor with a Dntel remix of "Faking the Books", and an even better trade happens with Andy Weatherall's Two Lone Swordsmen project. They dub out "Nin-com-pop", pulling the Ultimate Remix Trick of changing the chords and leaving the vocal with a whole new character. Lali Puna lend the Swordsmen's "It's Not the Worst I've Looked" their usual combination of humming synths and clean guitar.
Anyone who missed Morr Music's compilation of Slowdive covers can use this to catch up on Lali Puna's version of "40 Days", a head-nodding whisper of a shoegazer classic. Culling from Morr also offers the album's highlight, an atypically sinister collaboration with Bomb the Bass called "Clear Cut"-- plus two EP tracks, and another whispering cover of Giorgio Moroder and Philip Oakey's "Together in Electric Dreams". The second half of the collection-- Lali Puna remixed-- skews even further into the machines, with Boom Bip revving "Micronomic" into a race of acoustic guitars, To Rococo Rot getting all blippy-baroque on "Grin and Bear," and Alias and Sixtoo both letting some foreign sound buzz in contrast through the backgrounds of their contributions.
Which is what we're looking for, right? That old warm-and-sleepy Lali Puna vibe suffuses everything here. Anyone miffed by the turn on Faking the Books should be pleased with the handy look back this collection represents. And anyone miffed by nothing at all-- anyone up for some of that Morr Music product that doesn't just sound like Ida with some IDM beats-- will find this a pretty decent return on the ear-candy investment; not a lot of motion, but more than enough soft sound to sink into.
