Review Summary: The work of a scattered genius.
Brian Transeau has always been something of a musical renegade. Going from a classically trained pianist at the Berklee College of Music to a trailblazing electronica pioneer in Los Angeles, BT has become world-renowned for his innovative techniques as well as for his huge role in developing progressive house and trance for the masses. Calling the man a one-trick pony would be an insult, though; nearly every album he’s released after his debut has incorporated numerous genres and bits of pieces into his diverse arsenal, from jazzy trip-hop to classical scores to straight rock.
These Hopeful Machines, his sixth album, continues this trend, returning to a more dance-oriented sound than 2006’s
This Binary Universe but retaining the prevalence of vocals and stylistic mish-mashing.
As an artistic effort,
These Hopeful Machines is immediately inspiring and, truth be told, a bit intimidating. Clocking in a bit under two hours, the mammoth record is split into two slightly more manageable sides, although the differences between either are negligible. It’s an interesting concept, and one that speaks to BT’s desire to release an
album as opposed to a dance record. There is an ebb and flow that’s obvious from opener “Suddenly” to the Psychedelic Furs cover “The Ghost in You” that closes everything out. At times it’s a rewarding experience, where all the jagged pieces fall together into a thing of seamless beauty that is as amazing for its coherence as it is for its understated complexity: check the shimmering collapse of “The Emergency” into the glitchy “Every Other Way” or the way the filthy house rave of instrumental “The Rose of Jericho” gracefully downshifts into new-wave rocker “Forget Me.” For a man of BT’s talents it should come as no surprise, but it’s hard to make it through a full listen of
These Hopeful Machines without coming off with the impression that the record is a bit bloated, particularly much of the first and fourth tracks off the second disc, which meander about melodies and dreamy soundscapes without much of a purpose or hook.
It should come as little surprise then, that amidst the typically excellent mood pieces and foot-stomping parties BT throws down, the album really succeeds on the contributions of its vocalists, from Transeau himself to guest vocalists like Rob Dickinson, Kirsty Hawkshaw, and Christian Burns. At times they make the track, as on Burns’ urgent vocals on “Suddenly” or the delicate performance Transeau puts on “The Ghost in You,” which overhauls the original into an entirely new atmospheric beast. On the other hand, Hawkshaw’s angelic work on “A Million Stars” comes off as far too airy, making the rather boring track seem like a bad Enya trance mix. Dickinson’s throaty effort on “Always,” meanwhile gives the track a bit of a Nickelback-in-Ibiza vibe that is certainly off-putting and only aided by the cheesy lyrics, although he redeems himself on the soulful, breezy “The Unbreakable” later on.
Still, BT’s true talents continue to lie in his house work, and on hard-hitting club mixes like “The Rose of Jericho” or the gritty synths and transcendent melodies of the bipolar “Every Other Way,” Transeau continues to prove he can progressive, fresh house with the best of them. While it’s entertaining to see such a talent spread his wings beyond his most successful works, the uneven nature of
These Hopeful Machines speaks to a scattered genius, one who is suitably proficient in everything from soft rock ‘n roll to fist-pumping anthems to hypnotic mood pieces, but one who still struggles to fit them all into a clear, consistent aural portrait.