BE WARY of minstrels bearing music that will 'change your life'. Chances are that these are just cowboys in disguise, come to dress up the same old moves and shakes in today's finery. Or, if you're talking about Lamb, there's the distinct possibility that this set of shady characters has decided to update Portishead's version of trip-hop by adding a junglist twist. What is certain is that for sheer gall and front and audacity, Louise Rhodes - she of the strange, sometimes Gaelic-sounding intonations - and Andy Barlow take some beating.

Of course, music belongs to everyone - and what is the pop music industry but a massive recycling plant? - yet it is still slightly shocking to hear smoky, melancholic torchsongs set to drum'n'bass loops that skitter and burble. What rescues Lamb from accusations of wholesale pilfering is the distinct identity that sneaks out through the pores of the whole, as opposed to the obviousness of the parts. The full story would also take note of the weird, beatless, orchestral ballads that surface on occasion - the accusatory 'Zero' and the arid, near-suicidal 'Feela', as well as the seemingly sarcastic 'Closer'.

Then, there's the way the Manchester-based duo insist on layering double-bass strolls, jazzy gimmicks and otherworldly noises on the jungle-based tracks. And few will ignore the beguiling - if not downright disturbing - way this soundtrack to an imaginary love affair proceeds from the awkward optimism of 'Lusty' through the familiar, distorted 'Trans Fafty Acid' to the very depths at the end. So Lamb get away with it, this time.

rated:  6 (out of 10)

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review:  Dele Fadele

nicked from 'New Musical Express', dated 12 October 1996

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