Photek Modus Operandi (Science/Virgin)
Photek is Rupert Parkes. Rupert Parkes says he "has an obsession with perfection." Skipping the obvious complementing phrase (this album is not perfect--listen to the grating "Aleph 1" for proof), suffice to say that it shows. Parkes comes from the centre of drum & bass, but without the petty parochial baggage that's increasingly dividing jungle; he signs with a major; he makes the most detailed, inlaid, least big-labelish thing thinkable. I
Mick Turner Tren Phantasma (Drag City) Best known for his rhapsodic playing with Aussie group the Dirty Three, guitarist Mick Turner proves to be the rarest of soloists, one who packs exacting emotion into so few notes and chords. Crystallizing melancholy into raindrops against the window of this moving Tren Phantasma, Turner drifts through lush regions of joy, anguish and wondrous reverie ("Sailor's Lament," "Beautiful Hairy Cow"), carrying with him the resonance of one who's travelled these places before. 9.5/10 (Lorrie Edmonds) The Slackers Redlight (Hellcat/Epitaph)
Ocean Colour Scene Marchin' Already (MCA/Universal)
I hated Ocean Colour Scene's North American debut for its facile Beatle-isms and faux American boogie (Britpop is dead. Long live the Allman Brothers. Or Pavement). But on this follow-up they tone down the garish Colours of both those tendencies and drift closer to Beatles protégés Badfinger (and one song called "Big Star") and the less-blues-more-pop of Crowded House. Still, OCS can come off like a bunch of Cat Stevenses for the '90s, and that's unforgivable. 6.5/10 (Chris Yurkiw)
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f you liked Photek's last EP, Ni Ten Ichi Ryu, with its snippy, strictly non-kitsch sound of martial arts and clinking swords, then you can stop rewinding. The metallic drumming, trebly echo, spare production and that positively Photek-ish sound of backwards swallowing are all here, made epic, bottomless, very far ahead of the club. Wait for it--it hits you on the second listen. 8.5/10 (Mireille Silcott)
The east coast ska scene's answer to Cali traditionalists Hepcat, the Slackers are firmly grounded in the old school of ska and rock steady. Witness, for instance, their opening tribute to Skatalites sax man Tommy McCook. Bypassing Hepcat's soul angle, the Slackers opt for cool jazzy stylings with some cabaret touches. Laid back but never slack, the Slackers effortlessly overstep their frenetic, formulaic and ultimately faceless peers. 8.5/10 (Rupert Bottenberg)