Fred Deakin and Nick Franglen compiled their first three EPs of fizzy chill-out for those late-night lava lamp staring sessions. It's downtempo for the acid generation, an eschewing of popular "prêt-à-porter" after-hour aesthetics. You wouldn't catch many an icily cool dance group writing songs of slow-motion fascist mamba marches ("Homage to Patagonia"), universal U.K. garage meditations ("Page One"), or Edward Scissorhands sipping cocktails at Eighteenth Street Lounge Music ("His Majesty King Raam"). Perhaps a good thing.
Dean Carlson, Rovi