This is a self indulgent album that is as nerve jangling in places as an especially irksome and repetitive mobile phone ringtone.
Coming over musically crude despite being well thought out, Jean-Emmanuel Krieger, aka Baikonour, displays no discernment within a somewhat specialist genre.
Dreary from the start, you feel he ought (on the grounds that instrumentals need to have an immediate impact) to forget everything he’s ever done, listen to Mike Oldfield’s Tubular Bells and start all over again.
This is objectified and artificial with a cold, genetically engineered, test-tubey aftertaste so lacking in life-force that it needs an antidote.
[etRating value=“ 2”]
