Plaid's Double Figure is the final instalment of a musical trilogy that, since it started in 1995, has seen the band of bubble squelches soar in stature amongst the techno intelligentsia.
True they may not attract the same kind of universal approval accorded to Autechre and Aphex. But this is partly because their output tends to be more accessible than their stable mates' - very annoying, if not criminally irresponsible, if you happen to be an indie-techno anorak. Meanwhile they're equally capable of witty observations that burn acidic holes in the armour of contemporary music without anyone noticing.
Following volumes one, Not For Threes, and two, Restproof Clockwork, the inspiration for this slab of experimentation is the dryly pointless observation that humans (and other animals) have two ears that simultaneously hear the same single sound at the same time.
But rather than being an earnest study of cross faders and panning knobs, the album reveals an eclectic collection of very loosely associated concerns. If there is a theme then Plaid reveal themselves to be in a less gimmicky, more sombre, soulful stage of their development. 'Zamami', the fourth track in, even has a touch of the 'Tubular Bells'.
'Eyen' begins with a rising steel string guitar chord sequence that builds with string lines and a single note bass line to a thoroughly organic, emotional out pouring.
For an album concerned with aural senses, the effect is strikingly visual. Unfourtunately it also blows one of the album's high points too early on.
By contrast 'Squance' meshes early Eighties electro hinged disco with electricity pylons and string runs. 'Assault on Precinct Zero' is another ambient outing, butt sadly it doesn't live up to its allusion to the seminal sound track to Seventies cult classic Assault on Precint 13 the film that launched 1,000 techno b-lines.
'Silversum' takes on harder Germanic electronic edges and grows more beat-tastic, while simultaneously introducing the nerd factor. From here the breadth of the album expands, taking in drum 'n' bass beats one minute, dropping back to laid back trip hop tempos the next, clipping through coughing and spluttering samples and skipping over fluttering break beats.
Naturally this means the rhythm patterns get close to 2step's breaks, such as on 'New Family', but thankfully they don't venture to Squarepusher's 'My Hot Red Car'.
With a slightly indulgent running order of 19 tracks, it's not surprising that some of this is pretty average, although it ensures that high points, such as emergence of the brooding Garnier/ Svek-Air Frog bass line of 'Twin Home', do not get missed. An equally glorious, if contrasting, moment comes from the stunning and romantically French 'Sincetta'.
For some this will remain too noodly, arty and, more justifiably, long to be ingested. But for an album that explores the duality of hearing, this sounds equally effective in mono, which perhaps makes its own point.
