In an indeterminate future, you stand in a crowd in the Great Glass Elevator. Like all elevators, this one comes wired for sound—soulless, slick, electronic muzak. Yet something is not quite right—rather than being the irritatingly-pacifying background-stuff, it keeps sneaking into your frontal lobes with growls of distortion, electronic shrieks and incendiary little licks. As the elevator gathers pace, your colleagues strip off their suit-jackets and ties, and the elevator becomes a sky-rocketing disco…

Money Mark, former keyboardist in the Beastie Boys’ live show, has created a lyric-less disc of processed vibes and snarls that winds up tasting a bit like elevator music on acid. While the soul of it may be elusive at times, the surprises keep coming. Much of the album is reminiscent of the recent explosion of electronic jazz, headed up by the likes of St. Germain and Karl Denson, but “Another Day,” is an electronic fantasy on Santana’s “Guajira,” (though unattributed). “Soul Drive Sixth Avenue” digs a little deeper into funk territory as the keys croak with wah-wah and a baritone sax enters the mix. “People’s Party (Red Alert)” starts to layer the horns over a groovy, yet still camp bassline. One has to admire the talent of the Money man: Although he does recruit various friends on drums and suchlike (including Sean Lennon on electric bass), almost everything is played by himself, from flute to nylon guitar. The album might have benefited from the presence of some words (perhaps even delivered by a Beastie?) but that would have detracted from the monolithic simplicity of the groove, in which the keyboard (or Korg Triton, or arp odyssey synth, or whatever) is king.

Enjoyable elevator music! Glorious oxymoron! Perfect for those too-suave-for-real-music parties, and anyone who likes all mirror decor.

—Andrew R. Iliff

Grant-Lee Phillips

Mobilize

(Uni/Zoe)