Responsibilities can be a real bind. I feel beset by them. I have to remember to pay my electric bill, the lousy cable company, show up at work, de-turd my cat's poop-tray. All these tasks fatigue me so much I wonder about those amongst us whose lifestyles court even more of them. I mean, look at surgeons. Surgeons most likely have cable bills to remember, but they also have to remember whether they removed the all the sponges and forceps from Mr. Gibbon's small intestine, or whether they completely closed up Mrs. Grigg's cranial incision. Such responsibilities would drive me insane.

I know I'm not alone in this fear of responsibility. Some are so put off by such obligations that they become musicians. Musicians-- especially those who record electronic albums-- have little to care about. All they have to remember to do is get up in the morning, switch on CuBase and a sampler, and pour themselves a carrot juice. It used to be the case that nothing was simpler than a life spent messing about in boats. Nowadays, the carefree youth can make money and be bereft of chores by learning which end of a drum machine is which.

Jake Mandell knows a bit more than the right-way-up of a Roland 909, though, and we're glad that he does. Quondam Current is a stalwart example of a musician fully coming to grips with his artistic vision and the technology needed to realize it. You're more likely to succeed if you've studied Japanese history and the structure of enzymes like Mandell has. By modeling proteins, Mandell has looked into the complex structures that keep our shit together. Such knowledge has given him insight on how to wreck our shit, too. His brand of electronica isn't predicated on getting us to wave our hands in the air, or egging us on to buy a flashy new VW. Quondam Current is predicated on the subversion of genre.

Mandell's previous album, Parallel Processes was, in hindsight, just the start of this strategy. It sounded very much like a young pretender to Aphex's crown. On Quondam Current, Mandell makes no such feeble insurrectionary gesture. This album is out to prove that he's at least Richard D. James' peer, as well as give Autechre a long-overdue wake-up call.

"Circumscribed" begins its too-short five minutes as a gauzy Mike Ink/Gas clone before Mandell creeps in the echoic funk of dub. From this point on, the track stalks you, adapting its predatory approach to avoid meeting your expectations. "Jabot" is quite an achievement, too, coming on like a substantial Schematic track. The Autechre-fixated Schematic roster make their abstract tracks spindly and spiny, but Mandell has adapted their form of electronica and shoved steroids down its meager gullet. The result of his engineering is a burly thug of a track, rather than a speccy nerd. "Knolled Troll" suffers from only an appalling title. If you've ever wanted to hear a Pole track remixed by electro pioneer Shep Pettibone, but can't wait until he gets around to it, Mandell has provided you with his best guess. And if you're not convinced by that approximation, "Rubber Rock" (not a great title, either) mixes up similar slap-back electro funk with Ultravox atmospherics.

So, has Mandell any responsibilities left to shirk? Well, yes. Quondam Current is just too short. 55 minutes of texturized warped sonics is just too brief a time to relish such a talent. Bloody shirking musician! I'm off to take the trash out. Something else that Mandell most definitely doesn't have to worry about.

-Paul Cooper