The warm, lackadaisical vibe suggests this collaboration was more like a pleasant afternoon tea party rather than the Vesuvian eruption of striking creative forces that the dreadlocked massifs might have been hoping for.
Given Dr Alex Patterson's patent lionisation of stoner reggae (I dread to think how much he owes in royalties to Mikey Dread & The Scientist), this collaboration seems a long overdue meeting of sympathetic talents. To long time Orb fans, the musical template here will be agreeably familiar, igniting many happy memories and maybe one or two bongs.
The understated, minimal techno throbs (no doubt Thomas Fehlmann's touch) suck the casual listener in, particularly on Go Down Evil. As for Scratch's contributions, whilst it's been suggested that his prime years are long behind him, he keeps on truckin' regardless, this being his 22nd album since 2000. It wouldn't surprise if the bulk of these lyrics were improvised on the spot, which to be fair is often what he does best. In much the same way that Orbital re-jigged fan favourite Satan as the dubstep banger Beelzedub on their previous album, possible show-stealer Golden Clouds re-imagines The Orb's classic Little Fluffy Clouds through a haze of acoustic strums, iridescent bleeps and whatever chemicals were floating through the studio air at the time. Scratch adds some suitable childhood ramblings that, whilst not as intoxicating as Rickie Lee Jones' original ruminations, manage to impress comfortably enough. Whilst it might've been some time since either act were at their peak, there are none of the out-of-box moments of unbridled headfuck that have historically revealed the depths of both acts' considerable talents.
The warm, lackadaisical vibe suggests this collaboration was more like a pleasant afternoon tea party rather than the Vesuvian eruption of striking creative forces that the dreadlocked massifs might have been hoping for.