Lau
Album: Race The Loser
Label: Reveal
Tracks: 9
Website: http://www.lau-music.co.uk

Formed around seven years ago, and then barely two years later styling themselves as "a reaction against the endless jigs and reels bands", Lau now take that credo a stage further on their latest record, firstly in the disc's perhaps unexpected embracing of electronica and secondly in the threesome's introduction of a specified thematic concept - that of post-industrial decline. But please hold back on the auto-critical reaction that might kick in on reading the above sentence, for it's still a uniquely stimulating aural experience for those prepared to cast aside any preconceptions. The sound of this new album will doubtless come as a bit of a shock initially to those who've grown to enthuse about the unnerving, exciting overt instrumental virtuosity allied to genuinely inventive experimentation that has become the trio's hallmark.

It's fair to say that there's an almost relaxed new vibe to much of the music on Race The Loser, even though Lau's trademark "deconstructed jigs and reels" elements are still very much present on tracks like the episodic Far From Portland, the fractured hornpipe Noltland Castle and the tricky buzz of Save The Bees. But it's probably the various projects in which the group has immersed itself since its last CD Arc Light, that have played the greatest part in the new album's even more obvious spirit of experimentation, notwithstanding the skilled production by Tucker Martine, latterly famous for his work with Laura Veirs, The Decemberists, Sufjan Stevens and REM, who has clearly and positively encouraged the lads to find room for their latent love of electronic music within the acknowledged Lau sound-blend while also pushing their envelope in other interesting directions like the strange, almost psychedelic melange of the disc's closing outing Beer Engineer.

Having previously addressed the album's basic theme on his classic earlier tracks Black Water and Banks Of Marble, Lau's brilliant singer/guitarist Kris Drever provides this new set with some supremely memorable moments of his own devising, notably the decidedly melancholy commentary Saint Monday, the wheezy backbeat-ridden Throwing Pennies and the percussively handclapped (shades of Steve Reich?) The Bird That Winds The Spring. Showstopper fiddle player Aidan O'Rourke and freewheeling accordionist Martin Green still provide plenty of breathtaking musical adventures, and the chemistry between the three players is stunning as ever - and although it's not always possible to discern exactly what is going on in the mix, what is being electronically enhanced and how, this doesn't really matter when the sounds produced are so tremendously enticing.

I can safely recommend this brave CD to existing Lau fans and to adventurous listeners who are hitherto unfamiliar with the group's charms. Race The Loser? No contest - this exceptional release has "winner" stamped all over it, and will I'm sure in a very short time become regarded as a significant development in the field of experimental folk-fusion. And by the way, the deluxe edition of Race The Loser includes a whole disc devoted to a set of brilliant, otherwise-unavailable-anywhere live recordings from 2011.

David Kidman