The nearly oppressive massiveness of Out From Out Where brings to mind not so much anything currently coming from the electronica/turntablist scene as the coming of H.P. Lovecraft’s terrifying Cthulu. It’s easy to imagine such a beast coming from the unfathomable mind of an alien creature rather than a relatively unassuming kid from Brazil who first made his name in the British drum ‘n’ bass scene under the nom de plume, Cujo. 1996’s Adventures In Foam introduced the fire of be-bop and free jazz into the genre so skillfully that by the time Tobin released his beat-crazy albums Bricolage (1997) and Permutation (1998) under his own name, he was being invited to perform at jazz festivals.
No mere jazz-junglist, Tobin leapfrogged over contemporaries like Alex Reece, u-Ziq, Autechre and Squarepusher by incorporating Brazilian music, classical, psychedelia, metal and god knows what else into a brilliant, seamless whole, all with analog samples. Out From Out Where minces the samples even more finely so that it’s virtually impossible to trace the source of any one sound. The result is Tobin’s most thematically cohesive work, a cold, black marble monolith of astral funk. While the pieces aren’t as charming and easily enjoyable as those on 2000’s Supermodified, its invocation of epic dread is awe-inspiring. Taking cues from the cyber-dub of Techno Animal, the menacing “El Wraith” and dinosaur stomping “Rosies” feature “When The Levee Breaks” drums deep enough to make you feel the back of your eyeballs vibrate. But the overall heaviness is conveyed through sonic density more than bludgeoning beats. That’s not to say every moment is heavy-handed. “Verbal” out-does Prefuse 73 in its nimble treatment of spliced vocals. Above the skittering beats and bleeps of “Chronic Tronic” floats an ethereal melody, handled with subtlety that could only be matched by perhaps Mouse On Mars. “Mighty Micro People” is delicate like a flower that, upon closer examination is made of fibers of wire and scrap metal. “Proper Hoodidge” sounds as if you’re eavesdropping on an ancient Egyptian funeral ritual as giant aliens supervise the construction of pyramids in the background. Whispers of ancient Arabic Indian classical melodies squirm just below the surface throughout the album, particularly in the multi-layered “Searchers.” “Triple Science” exudes that particular claustrophobia of space madness — you know the kind, when the navigator robot is humping your leg and the mutant guinea pig is driving the ship towards a nearby black hole. With such a singular mood, the album may not get as much play as something more emotionally diverse and satisfying as DJ Shadow’s Endtroducing, and will not appeal to everyone. But the genius of Out From Out Where is that it is so is richly evocative of different panoplies of images every few seconds. Forget John Williams and Danny Elfman, any director planning their magnum opus space-horror opera would be an idiot not to go directly to Amon Tobin, the 21st century virtuoso sound designer against whom all else will be measured.
