Huh? That was my first response, in late 2004, when I saw that Mark E. Smith had lent his signature talky vocals to two remixes of Mouse on Mars' "Wipe That Sound" for a 12-inch. His pinched rants ripped apart the sugary pop buzz that Jan St. Werner and Andi Toma had conjured on the MES-free original version, which had appeared a few months earlier on the duo's Radical Connector LP. They'd taken all that time to assemble dense tracks and memorable hooks, and Smith sounded like he'd just stumbled in off the street to grouchily announce whatever random thoughts happened to pop into his head. Though Mouse on Mars had been enjoying a bump in popularity at the time, owing to their recent turn to pop, no one seemed to pay much attention to that single. It seemed reasonable to write it off as a joyless dead-end experiment and nothing more.
So it comes as something of a surprise now that Mouse on Mars and Smith apparently found the one-off inspiring enough to record an entire album together. Tromatic Reflexxions, their (first?) full-length, reflects the general tenor of that original collaboration, even featuring one of the "Wipe That Sound" remixes in a slightly different form, and retitled "That Sound Wiped". Somehow, even though "That Sound Wiped" sounds just OK, the ideas presented actually gain some cumulative force as they're hammered at again and again over 48 minutes. In this way, the record operates something like a Fall album, wearing you down with its relentless energy.
Some have noted that Von Südenfed occasionally sounds like Smith is knocking back at the early LCD Soundsystem singles, on which he'd been such a clear influence, and opening track "Can't Get Enough" is probably the reason for the comparison. St. Werner and Toma have crafted a crunchy, bouncy beat with a bassline not terribly far from "Losing My Edge", and of course, Smith carries on like the scenester-baiting O.G. that he is. It's a solid kickoff that also lays out the project's tight parameters: Its grooves are harsh and noisy, often stuttering about in strange ways, and they strike a strong contrast to the accessible pop tendencies of Mouse on Mars' clubbier recent material. Meanwhile, Smith's voice is slathered in reverb, EQ'd to give it midrange-only bite, and occasionally chopped into bits and inserted where its abrasion can be best felt-- the sonic equivalent of a pebble in a shoe.
The first eight songs stick closely to this template with slight variations, like a catchy chorus hook ("The Rhinohead") or a ridiculously broken beat that seems to bypass your hearing entirely and head straight for the fragile equilibrium maintained by your inner ear ("Serious Brainskin"). It's a weird stretch of music, sometimes exciting, but also oddly monotonous-- especially considering the tightly packed and maximal approach to sound-- and ultimately a little draining.
They finally decide to mix things up a bit during the album's last quarter. "Chicken Yiamas" begins with acoustic guitars playing some mutant blues. Smith says something about a yardbird and how he has two bones, but there must be something about those drumsticks because he ululates wildly, sounding more energized than at any other moment on the record. "Jback Lois Lane" is mostly just a goof, a field recording dominated by a lawnmower as Smith speaks to someone only partly coherently in the middle distance. This leads to a bubbling tune with a vaguely West African guitar line and plenty of slide. Smith sounds like he's having a lot of fun by now, and his rhythmic feel is completely on as he negotiates the groove with strategically elongated vowels. How did we get here? What does this all add up to? Hard to say. Tromatic Reflexxions sounds like three guys having a great time ignoring whoever might be asking these questions.
