ISAM

ISAM plays out like the soundtrack to some bizarre nature documentary: it continually pauses, goes off in another direction, halts again, then sits unmoving for a time, as though Tobin had been musically ghosting the movements of a tiny insect traveling along a leaf.

Tobin takes the sprawling nature of 2007's Foley Room and puts a leash on it.

Tobin's virtuoso collaging of alien sounds is bracingly vivid in small doses, but a little chilly and disorienting over the long haul.

On his latest release, Amon Tobin isn't building songs as much as he is sounds. The textures on most of this album are absolutely amazing, and among the best this Brazilian electronica producer has ever created.

At its best, ISAM enters the realm of pure abstraction without losing its sense of purpose.

For those unwilling to ride his digital wave of collapse and partial reconstruction, Farmer's mythological re-enactments will seem essential.

He has the ideas: ISAM's pieces keep wandering into unmarked industrial zones, evoking broken things and blight. But this is heavy, foreboding music; Tobin hasn't yet learned how to balance his robust sound-art impulses with footholds for his listeners.