Atmospheric sonic noodling as house meets prog
The Orb have often hailed as their generation's answer to Pink Floyd (in this incarnation founding member Alex Patterson and Martin 'Youth' Glover). So it was a natural progression that they should find themselves working with fellow psychadelic noodler David Gilmour at some point. And anyone who compared The Orb to Pink Floyd will be relieved to know that they were right, so attuned are the melodic forces at work.
This is a true collaboration with all the songs co-written between The Orb and Gilmour. That there has been a real creative meeting of minds rather than a big 'name' half-heartedly attached to a couple of the tracks is strangely reassuring. Gilmour's guitar highlights every song, complementing the washes of samples and loops of rhythm. It doesn't sound too much like The Orb's acid house moments, and there's little of Floyd's tendency towards melancholy.
The album is split into two 'sides' (like true 'virtual vinyl') with five tracks on each. Not that individual tracks matter much as the whole thing rolls along like waves along the shore; one moment ethereal echo-drenched guitar, the next thudding dub bass and bubbling Eastern-inspired synth. There are moments of almost acoustic folk guitar, and even a nod to 'Echoes' with the seagull-wail bursts across the 'Spheres Side'. Little bubbles of familiarity from Gilmour's former lives seep through into 'Metallic Spheres' as constant reminders that this is more than background music.
Gilmour's seductive and subtle guitar gives The Orb's electronic influences focus and purpose in what could have otherwise been a sprawling mass of influences. The Orb's modern touches progress Gilmour's style in a way he would have been criticised for doing himself. It adds energy to the soul of smooth guitar work that is often eschewed in favour of melancholy narratives on albums like 'On An Island' and 'The Division Bell'.
The whole album is a mish-mash of influences across world music, ambient, and synth-rock, to name a few. There's little traditional structure, with the few vocals being provided by samples and melodic riffs coasting in and out of ever-changing celestial backdrops. The album is more of an art project than collection of songs, taking cues from Peter Gabriel and Brian Eno, Richard Wright's keyboard work for Floyd and Bowie's experimental moments. It's not truly 'ambient' but it's a long-player you'll want to pull up a beanbag and take an hour out to take a journey with. Just don't be in any hurry to get anywhere.