I'd been scratching my chin and wondering, "When are those intrepid Dust Brothers going to come out with an album all their own?" Sure, they've produced some of the best albums of the decade: Paul's Boutique, and Odelay... but when, o when, would they show us their true selves, without the framework of another artist's music upon which to hang their mask?

Well, I didn't know it at first, but at the exact moment I was bemoaning this lack of original Dust Brothers music, I had in my possession that which I sought! Fight Club is composed in its entirety by the Dust Brothers, making it the closest thing to a solo record by Mike and John that's out there right now. Are you excited? Are you grabbing your crotch? You know you are.

So, with much pomp and circumstance involving crushed velvet and my hairy, naked body, I listened. Yes, I played the soundtrack over and over again. I played it through my home system, I played it through my headphones. I played it for you, Sammy. What I found was not astounding, not amazing, and not particularly sexy. It was a soundtrack, much like many others, only much better.

Fight Club serves the purpose of soundtrack and score to a tee, providing compelling background music that evokes feelings from the audience as they watch the movie. However, Fight Club transcends this model by providing a level of depth to the music beyond their peers. The atmosphere of the songs vary greatly, though not surprisingly, the majority of the tracks suggest suspense, action and climax.

Varying in electronic style from sparse drum-n-bass to sort of a pseudo trip-hop, Fight Club consistently does much with very little. Many tracks are composed with an eye toward efficacy-- "the power to produce an effect." While Fight Club sounds like a score in the respect that it's completely lyric-free, and in that it follows a tempo dictated by the action of its film counterpart, this soundtrack is clearly of the caliber to be enjoyed not only for homoerotic reminiscences of the movie but afterward-- perhaps while drinking coffee or buying Crystal Meth.

As you'd imagine, there's dissonance on Fight Club. Sharp, mechanical sounds warp around one another, colliding with drum beats and unusual samples. And it's all done with a light touch that evokes more than the sum of its parts would suggest. Similarly, a few lyric moments cut the tension. There's the acid-jazzy organ opening of "Mario," the whimsical bossa of "Corporate World," and the bongos-n-bass of "Hessell, Raymond K."

I'd still like to hear the Brothers stretch out without any constraints and make a solo record for their fans and themselves. The album's lack of vocals is a little disappointing, but it's easily offset by the overall quality of the tunes. Fight Club is one of the few soundtracks you can listen to and forget that it's a soundtrack at all. It hangs together as well as most traditional albums and I give them credit for that.

-James P. Wisdom