This Montreal collective's ambitious new mishmash finally arrives, and proves completely incapable of remaining in one sonic realm for more than two minutes at a time. Feline Fantasy transforms into electric meringue during its ear-tickling bridge, and the rich textures never lose their magnetism. The dancehall-lite vibe of Sea Of Life would be disposable if it wasn't adorned with so many interesting flourishes -- electro-zaps, droplets of soul and muted old-school horns -- and the liquid tone of the good/bad production hypnotizes you.
They don't make multi-genre concoctions like this any more, and fans might have moved on to the latest hipster hype. A subpar MC asks earnestly 'If Chuck D's still doing it, why not me?' before Fatlip pops up to prove he'll always know how to channel heartbreaking insecurity into poetry. Even the worst songs are somehow redeemed before they end, but will neo-house/techno heads pick this rose? FYI: there is nothing attempting to be another Drinking In L.A., thankfully.