One minute you're navigating the ephemeral beats-scattered soundscapes of Goldfrapp, and the next losing it in Reprazent's visceral breakbeats. Just in the nick of time, rescue from sensory overload comes with a hauntingly-beautiful dose of Portishead.
This is no daydream, just a hint of what it's like to be in the mindset of Lamb and their third album 'What Sound'. They're back - and weirdly, just as Louise's pregnancy with her first child inspired their last emotional outpouring 'Fear Of Fours', the birth of her second son coincided with this latest sonic delivery. Kids aside - it seems that Louise and partner Andy have themselves grown, ditched their destructive in-fighting and ushered in the less-is-more aesthetic that comes with years of confined studio space. Take the organic sensuality of 'Gabriel' which was inspired by the work of Islamic religious poet Rumi and, says Louise, is about "having a big love for a particular human being, where you're just very glad that they're out there in the world".
Don't worry - Lamb haven't disappeared up their own proverbials or anything - just let in some wide-open space, and some shit-hot collaborators too, like Michael Franti, Scratch Perverts and Jimi Goodwin (Doves' guitarist). Letting go of the reins a little turned out to be a stroke of accidental genius. Where their last album was unhappily tricky and angular, 'What Sound' is free-ranging, shape-shifting and swells with an ecstatic buzz. Take the funky, Asian-flavoured 'Sweet' or the soaring 'This Could Be Heaven' (of Audi ad fame). But however much sweeping orchestral passion Lamb spill - their precision beats and twisted techno always curl like barbed wire round their tenderness. That ever-present ghetto-cred and futuristic insight are Lamb's passport to progression, and they don't show any signs of slowing down.
rated: * * * * (out of 5)
review: Lena Skye
nicked from 'Rock Sound', dated October 2001
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