Wherever I Am I Am What Is Missing

(Beggars Too)

Although Laika’s fourth record seems easy to pigeonhole on first listen, it’s defined by contradictions—an accessible beat-driven album that takes its title from a poem by Poet Laureate Mark Strand; a downtempo album that actually has lyrical content; an electronica album comprised largely of organic instruments. Vocalist Margaret Fiedler even lends wispy guitar sounds to the mix, and with skittering electronic beats complemented by drummer Lou Ciccotelli, Laika seem to move in spheres close to those of their Russian cosmodog namesake.

The album often resembles Thievery Corporation, despite most of the songs being written by bassist Guy Fixsen (formerly of My Bloody Valentine and The Breeders). Slithering vibes—as on “Barefoot Blues,” anchored by a dirty jungle bassline—and funktastic synths weave around Fiedler’s siren vocals, only to dash unwary listeners on drum & bass breaks. Unlike many chill artists, however, Laika actually have lyrics worth listening to, such as the whispery refrain of the gorgeous “Oh”: “Words designed to pacify / it helps the sun is shining....”

Wherever aims for a purer, more stripped-down and ethereal sound than the frantic Silver Apples of the Moon or rock-driven Good Looking Blues. Laika do seem to stay in fairly fixed musical orbit throughout, and tracks that don’t distinguish themselves in some way (as with the quicker tempo and diverse instrumentation of “Falling Down”, or the syncopated rhythms of “Dirty Bird”) are lost in the ample space. Regardless, floating through the cosmos with Laika is a great choice for anyone searching for vocal, laid-back electronica. —Will B. Payne

Sting

Sacred Love

(A&M)

In his first effort in four years since the well packaged, neatly produced sounds of Brand New Day, Sting returns with Sacred Love—the result of a collaboration with band member and producer Kipper, not his well-documented and vocal practice of tantric sex. Considering the target audience Sting and his production team are eyeing, the album cover tells all: Sting, playing up his graying but still sexy Ralph Lauren looks and his penetrating, ‘soulful’ stare, shows that he still has passion—to woo the ladies and sell more albums along the way. His music is sentimental and nice to listen if one takes Sting as seriously as he takes himself. Unfortunately, it’s painfully predictable.

Stringing together these 11 songs under the loose concept of transcendental romance, Sting only sets himself up for cliched and tired love tunes, which rarely catch attention without pulling in guest artists. Usually, though, they are bogged down with repetitive and maudlin lyrics. Mary J. Blige lends her soul credibility in “Whenever I Say Your Name” for some of the album’s brighter moments. But ultimately, the song falls flat with its swarmy, sugar-coated chorus and failed attempt at manufactured gospel. The opening track, “Inside,” prepares us for the occasional verbosity and chronic blandness that characterizes the rest of his songs and “Never Coming Home” sounds like a remix of “Desert Rose,” with the same poppy, spacey, made-for-Jaguar commercial effects. The sad truth of Sacred Love is that it has cemented Sting’s new place in the soccer mom’s five-disc minivan changer. —Michelle Chun