Radiohead's Colin Greenwood will be very happy. The Munich-based experimental pop band Lali Puna follow up Radiohead's favorite album, Tridecoder, with Scary World Theory. Greenwood has gone through at least four copies of Tridecoder. How many copies of Scary World Theory will he get through? Or will he spend his millions on keeping its restrained brilliance off the streets?
After the dissolution of her previous band, L.B. Page, Lali Puna lynchpin Valérie Trebeljahr spent a lot of time avoiding human contact and fostering a profound connection with her four-track tape deck. Trebeljahr shared the results of her seclusion with the Notwist's Markus Acher, and soon, her Snooze EP was released to small but critical acclaim. Having contributed to the "Hausmusik Reienhaus" series and the Belgian K-raa-k label, Trebeljahr and Acher handpicked the crop of the German leftfield scene for additional bandmates. They came up with percussionist Christoph Brandner of the Notwist-affiliated Tied and Tickled Trio, and Florian Zimmer keyboardist of Iso 68 and Fred is Dead.
Shortly after the release of Tridecoder, super-genius producer and Lone Swordsman Andrew Weatherall admitted that he listened to Lali Puna on a ceaseless loop and, as Scary World Theory undeniably points out, there was a very good reason for that. Valérie Trebeljahr's blank vocal style has diverted attention from the style of music Two Lone Swordsmen are so deeply immersed in. Journalists have distracted themselves by attempting to morph Trebeljahr into Laetitia Sadier and remain oblivious to the reason that Weatherall loves this band so much: Lali Puna's music is a flawless adaptation of the glitch electro funk of Two Lone Swordmen's Tiny Reminders. To hammer this point home, any meaningful distinction between the two bands broke down when Lali Puna "remixed" Two Lone Swordsmen's "It's Not the Worst I've Ever Looked... Just the Most I've Ever Cared" for the Swordsmen's Further Reminders remix LP.
Scary World Theory handsomely discounts any accusations of plagiarism but isn't so deft at avoiding the lesser charge of imitation. The album starts with Sly Stone's fuzzy beat box limping out a rhythm before Trebeljahr's emotionless vocals utter the lyrics to "Nin-com-pop": "There was no reason to complain/ It's all been candy cream/ Neatly, smooth and clean forever." After each verse, a sparse guitar figure slinks in pursuit of prey while itself being stalked by an equally emaciated synth figure. Untroubled by these, Trebeljahr continues blankly on: "Yet things happened just that way/ Realize your fate/ Shut it down, increase the pressure."
Out of the crackles of an Ovalprocessed piano, Trebeljahr chants slogans on two-thirds of "Middle Curse." From a distance, she hectors listeners to quit their jobs, not to cross their fingers, to slam their doors and not look back. The bass twirls about the whiplashing snares, the snuffed hi-hats giving the impression that the Neptunes had a hand in the production.
Arthur Baker's signature NYC art-disco-punk handclap solo opens "Bi-Pet" as Trebeljahr warms up her Laurie Anderson-on-Haldol vocals. "Born/ Bought/ Discouraged/ All the things we do are pin-up sweet/ In between we're recorders/ In between we try." After several passes over these disconsolate lyrics, Trebeljahr allows the machines to parade their skeletal elegance, only to be called away from the catwalk just as a definite groove gets going. The Cure-meets-Tortoise instrumental "Contratempo" acts as a spry bridge between the passive resignation of "Bi-Pet" and the Spartan sumptuousness of the title track.
In a dimension less occupied with Britney and Harry Potter, Scary World Theory has won an Ivor Novello award and has been featured in a Baz Luhrmann revisionist musical melodrama. All the passion Trebeljahr has pent up during her previous performances she now releases in an intense Kahimi Karie hush: "I've never said you'll have to be afraid/ Of the cookie monster/ Beside your bed." The band compliment Trebeljahr's enthusiasm by filling out the sound space with warbling organs and staccato guitar lines familiar to anyone who's fallen in love with the Notwist's Shrink.
"50 Faces Of" shows off the band's competence at leftfield dance music only to be out slammed by "Lowdown," a jaw-dropping adaptation of New Order's "Dream Attack." "Don't Think" returns Trebeljahr to the Ovalprocess lab and to the blank vocal delivery that mimics the desperation of the lyrics, "Can't think/ As I'm answering your questions/ But you won't listen anyway/ I could be mute." "Come On Home" closes the album in a menacing electro swirl similar to Andrea Parker's Dark Ages EP. Things get truly disturbing as Trebeljahr sings, "The man on the plasticbag looks like terror/ He's staring at me/ I can't see why/ His face seems spoiled."
What Isaac Babel said about writing could easily be applied to the sinewy austerity of Scary World Theory: "Your language becomes clear and strong not when you can no longer add but when you can no longer take away." Unless he's overcome with jealousy, Colin Greenwood is going to be mightily overjoyed with this release.
