Lady Fantasy EP

Jason Forrest -Lady Fantasy EP Pitchfork score: 7.5

A certain tackiness defines Jason Forrest. There is the obvious (his label is called CockRockDisco), the explicit (his Web site is infested with photos of Carter Administration-era soirees at the Playboy Mansion and various pics of rollerdiscos and bitchin' decaled vans), to the baffling (his retired moniker of Donna Summer). Forrest typically perverts breakcore techno as the new prog. Many of his fired shots are peppered with samples of Frank Frazetta-painted Guitar God solos, breakbeat arraignments bloated with impatient ideas, and an overwhelming sense that everything was bought on discount at the Goodwill record bins.

However, Forrest is still an entertaining bastid who can provoke chuckles, furrowed eyebrows, and an unironic appreciation of trash. Case in point is how he mined the funkiest breakbeats from Alex Van Halen's trapkit in Tigerbeat6's sadly overlooked Revenge of the Fight Club 12". Plus, a balding, Caucasian Jersey boy who named himself after disco's greatest Diva\xAA is almost criticism-proof.

Forrest's four tunes on Lady Fantasy include departures and pushes of his spattergore breaks taken to their self-immolating logic. Most notable is how Forrest gives the listener breathing space with his opening ambient-drone piece, "The Work Ahead of Us". David Grubbs marinates the song with guitar feedback, which enriches a rather mediocre synth ballad ailed by lackluster melodies. Despite the singes of distortion by its end, the song does not give a promising direction for Forrest, Which is why the ultra-violence of the following title track is welcome. He first begins by looping a classic Camelot-prog break that then gets cut off by a drum machine sputtering on its last fumes of gas and failing to launch into a groove. The absurdity is divine. "The Lure of You" is one of Forrest's best moments; he brings in Margareth Kamerer to sing some Cotton Belt roadhouse-blues while he hypnotizes with a mind-locking disco beat and a giddy new wave riff that seems stolen from Prince and the Revolution. Quite startling.

Closer "Sperry and Foil" is nearly as intriguing. Throughout its eight minutes, a snake charming, Egyptian Lover-style electro-funk jaunts morphs into a Maypole-dancing techno. A sublime moment quietly arises midway as melancholic jazz causes the song to sit in a corner and gaze around the room as if appreciating its last moments of life on earth. And then it's back to the Maypole. Overall, the juvenile delirium that trademarks Forrest is slightly defied. Let's hope that he surprises us when his new LP drops this fall.

— Cameron Macdonald, June 13, 2005