Barnes & Noble
Fans of the lightweight pop and soothing mood music of Air's 1998 breakthrough, Moon Safari, will be surprised -- and perhaps shocked -- by the Parisian pair's follow-up, 10,000 Hz Legend. While the duo retains the instrumentation that made Moon Safari such a standout -- wiggly analog keyboards, pastoral acoustic guitars, throbbing drum machines -- they've traded in their debut's sunny outlook for a dark and angst-filled vision that suggests a postmodern, electronica take on Pink Floyd -- call it "Dark Side of the Moon Safari." Beginning with the deadpan robotic vocals of the opener, "Electronic Performers," Air take the listener on a wild and weird ride, stopping off at Middle Eastern flute jams ("Radian"), Moody Blues-like orchestral pomp ("Sex Born Poison"), and new wave pop ("Radio #1"). Enhancing the journey are guest vocals from Beck -- on the harmonica-laced, country-style highway romp "The Vagabond" and the haunting Krautrock throb of "Don't Be Light" -- and from the gals of Buffalo Daughter, whose high, restrained singing on "Sex Born Poison" heightens the tension. The result merges the aesthetics of soundtrack composer Lalo Schifrin, techno pioneers Kraftwerk, and French pop icon Serge Gainsbourg. Stringing all these elements together is an indelible sense of loneliness, paranoia, and dread, heightened by the wistful lyrics, detached cyborg vocals, and ominous string swells. It's not quite Radiohead's OK Computer, but it's not too far off. Michael Endelman
All Music Guide
Eager to prove their songwriting smarts and knowledge of traditionalist pop on their sophomore work, French band Air pulled back slightly from the milky synth pop of their 1998 debut, Moon Safari. 10,000 Hz Legend is a darker work, just as contemplative and unhurried as its predecessor, but part of a gradual move from drifting, almost pastoral melancholia to a downright post-modern helplessness in league with Radiohead. Air are still tremendously effective producers, and have actually expanded their palate with a surprising array of pop instrumentation (acoustic guitars, flutes, pianos, a harmonica, harps, and many strings) to file alongside the countless trilling synthesizers and machine sequencers. The two lead-off tracks, "Electronic Performers" and "How Does It Make You Feel," are breathtaking productions that exploit the same robot-weariness tendencies that made "Sexy Boy" (from Moon Safari) an alternative hit. Still, those detached retro-vocoder treatments sound so much more passé in 2001 than when the duo first tried them out in 1996. Jason Falkner and Beck, a pair of equally hardworking slacker-pop icons, appear (respectively) on the next two tracks, the tongue-in-cheek single "Radio #1" and an excellent morning-after jam named "The Vagabond." Again, the production is stellar, but these find Air stranded between art rock and pop, caught in the trap of trying to make great pop music yet never sounding particularly studied or concerned about it. Falkner pops up again on "Lucky and Unhappy" and "People in the City," a pair of album standouts that subvert any pop inclinations with a raft of bridges and breakdowns among the layers of production. "Wonder Milky Bitch" is another precisely studied track, a haze of lunar-desert synth pop directly evocative of country-pop classicist Lee Hazlewood, and "Radian" brings Air back to the instrumental textures of their early work. Fans and involved listeners are definitely rewarded with increased dividends after multiple listens, but even they may wish for an album that harked back to the simpler days of the Premiers Symptomes EP and Moon Safari. John Bush