Search - Jukeboxer :: In the Food Chain

Top of the foodchain.

kaleb of sctas.com | 500 Miles Underground | 11/23/2004

(5 out of 5 stars)

"Young man writes elegantly beautiful music and plays nearly all the insruments (keys, digital clicks, and a yacht-size shed of others not listed in the credits) - only problem is this young man doesn't want to use his own voice to deliver the anthems of choice. Sounds vaguely familiar - maybe, most notably, Stephin Merrit circa-Distant Plastic Trees (with Susan Anway the main voice for the record). The young man we speak highly of is Brooklyn DJ Noah Wall, and his 'Susan Anway' is a lovely-voiced lady by the name of Amy Jones, co-writer of 'In The Food Chain's eleven offerings.



Opener "Pilgrim" is all instrumental, with a somewhat simple guitar / bass rhythm laid atop a wash of fluid motion and a gentle shaker. Then 'In The Food Chain' takes off, into a world of "sneaker album of the year" territory. Picking favorites of the set would be similar to trying to play poker with an incomplete set of cards (sorry - it's the best I could do), as each of these tracks compliment each other so well, it makes complete sense why they are all snug so tight here on the record.



Should you be looking for a "preview" before you purchase (I hear you can do that somewhere on this internet), I would suggest the folktronica anthem that is "Banj" (featuring a banjo and some other unique musician-type tools my novice ears cannot decipher, although the tabla is listed) or the Squarepusher on Morpine (drip) follower "Thursday". On the later, vocalist Jones' spoken portion (not quite lyrics) get a digital treatment of staggers and delays just as the song comes to a close.



With much to explore, and more to be excited about 'In The Food Chain' ends and you spin it up for another go-round, Noah Wall and his Jukeboxer friends have sent a very unique album into a confused world that may not be able to match - or translate - it's beauty.



Should the 2 above "previews" not sell you ('tough crowd!') - try the brief wind-up elegance of "My Eyes Are Only". If, after these three choice blessings, you still have found no place for Jukeboxer in your heart - someone may have swapped yours for Dick Cheney's defective unit.

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