Even by the name-changing, shape-shifting standards of his close contemporaries Richard 'Aphex Twin' James and Mike 'Mu-ziq' Paradinas, the career of Cornish electronica-freak Luke Vibert has been a tricky one to pursue. A host of labels, a selection of names (his own, Plug and, most frequently, Wagon Christ) and a relentlessly odd sequence of style-changes (that most recently culminated in a jam with steel guitar player to the stars, BJ Cole) have made him less known and respected than, perhaps, he should be.
Hopefully, 'Musipal' will go some way to changing that. Vibert's music is predominantly daft where his contemporaries, notably Aphex, are often sinister, pranksterish and potentially deeply evil. Those with a morbid suspicion, then, of spangly digital harps, squelchy beats, '70s jazz funk with the hard bits taken out and frankly cartoonish levels of friskiness are well advised to steer clear.
Still, be brave. Groovy madness is afoot here, from the sampled borstal memoirs of 'Bend Over', through the honks, whistles and tap dancing potential of the title track, to the freaked disco of 'Cris Chana'. On 'The Premise', Vibert takes a leaf out of labelmates Coldcut and Kid Koala, making an old-skool cut'n'paste symphony of stupid soundbites. As ever with these things, one is particularly apposite. "I'm so full of ideas," cackles a maniac, "and here's a good one." Well, quite.
